


A Pizza My Heart

by DunuTheGorbageKween, R3dWr1t1ngH00d



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Depression, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Shiro (Voltron), I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Keith (Voltron) is a Dork, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Pansexual Allura (Voltron), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:23:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 92,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DunuTheGorbageKween/pseuds/DunuTheGorbageKween, https://archiveofourown.org/users/R3dWr1t1ngH00d/pseuds/R3dWr1t1ngH00d
Summary: “Hey, Keith…”“Yeah?”“Would you describe yourself as cute?”Keith turned to quirk an eyebrow at Shiro. “Where are you going with this?”It was getting close to 10:00pm, when Keith’s shift was over. It had been a slow night, lots of college students seemed to have abandoned the town for the weekend due to the absence of a football game. Keith had spent almost as much time out on runs as he’d spent waiting for more orders, and most of the other delivery personnel had been sent home already.Hardly able to contain his amusement, Shiro turned the computer screen so that Keith could read the order himself.“No. Absolutely not.”“Oh c’mon..”“I always get sent on these stupid runs and it’s always really drunk sorority girls and it’s always annoying.”“The name on this account says Lance McClain. That doesn't sound like a sorority girl to me.”Or that College AU where Keith studies art and Lance wants to be an elementary school teacher. Keith delivers pizza to pay the rent, and Lance orders pizza. Life ensues.





	1. Pineapple Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> This is a college AU vld fanfic co-written by myself and my IRL best friend. We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoy writing it. Updates weekly. There will be feels and fatalist humor (because we're Millenials and we guess we're trying not to die? It's a coping mechanism, okay?). Any trigger warnings will be posted at the beginning of relevant chapters (beginning in chapter 5. We love you and want you to be able to practice effective self care, so heads up). Brownie points to anyone who can guess the actual town/college/college marching band this shit is based on, because lemme tell you, it's all stuff that has actually happened. Also, please correct my Spanish.

“God I hate this job sometimes.”

 

He slammed his empty delivery bags on the counter and hunched over as one of the other employees whisked them off to fill with more pizzas. His long black hair flopped over his tired eyes while he waited for his next assignment. Friday nights were always busy, but when compounded with a lack of reasonable tips they were downright miserable.

 

The manager smiled wearily at him. “It’s almost over. That bad tonight?”

 

Keith let out a low, mirthless chuckle. “Seriously, who tips cents on the dollar on an order with four pizzas?”

 

The manager rolled his eyes in sympathy. “Well, I think we can make this your last run, the last few deliveries are pretty close together. You gonna get any rest tonight?”

 

“Nope,” he responded cheerlessly. “Gotta head to the art building to work on a drawing for a few hours. You?”

 

The manager let out a heavy sigh. “Grad school is merciless.”

 

Keith smiled tiredly and hefted his now-full delivery bags off the counter. His deliveries were all relatively close to the restaurant, so they took little time. However, the unfortunate fact was that the south side of town was mostly inhabited by college students, and college students tended to not tip exceedingly well. When booze was thrown in the mix, it could make any delivery unpredictable.

 

The first order ended up being for a handful of guys who were high out of their minds and tried to tip him in weed. He passed. The second was for a small, rather intoxicated DnD campaign, who actually tipped rather generously (“We just got to the end of the campaign! Riches abound for us all!”). The final was for a couple of sober people, finally, who just wanted some pizza, and gave him a reasonable tip. All in all, not a bad way to end a Friday shift. He returned his bags and receipts to the store and clocked out.

 

“Don’t stay up too late, Keith,” the manager called from the back.

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Follow your own advice, Shiro. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

He closed the door behind him and took in the warm September air. It was about 2:30am, but he wasn’t really tired. He shot a quick text to his roommate to let them know he’d be heading to campus and was utterly unsurprised at the prompt reply. Pidge never slept.

 

_ (2:32) School literally started 2 weeks ago what could you possibly need to work on _

 

(2:33) Got a drawing due Monday

 

(2:33) And anyway I’m not tired. May as well get stuff done..

 

_ (2:35) We need to get you a hobby _

 

(2:37) Excuse you I have hobbies

 

_ (2:40) Uh huh. See ya later _

 

Keith rolled his eyes at Pidge’s last message as he parked his car behind the art building. As always, there was a door left unlocked, though he wasn’t surprised that he was the only person there. He preferred it that way in any case. It meant he could blast music on his portable speaker without worrying about disturbing anyone else.

 

He grabbed his supplies from his locker and went about finding the exact spot he’d been sitting at in the hallway earlier that week. The lighting wasn’t right, but he could at least work on the structures of the building and filling in other details. Making a mental note to bring a pillow next time, he settled into his corner and began to work. Drawing lockers wasn’t terribly interesting, but anything was better than the self-portraits he’d been forced to do the previous semester.

 

After 5:00am hit, Keith began losing focus and decided to call it a night. He slowly packed up his supplies, stifled a yawn, and somehow managed to autopilot himself back to his apartment. He trudged up the stairs and unlocked the door, only to find Pidge still awake in the living room running some advanced computer program while eating out of a giant bag of watermelon sour patch kids.

 

He shut the door behind him and walked over to the desk, pretending to be interested in the program so that he could successfully steal a handful of candy.

 

“Hey, thief!” Pidge slapped his arm, but it wasn’t enough to deter him. “Go buy your own candy!”

 

Keith laughed, scooping his prize into his mouth. “See? Told you I have hobbies.”

 

Pidge settled back into her chair, bag of candy clutched protectively against her chest. “How was work?”

 

He shrugged, walking over to the kitchen area to peer in the fridge. The apartment was small, but comfortable. The living room and kitchen were essentially the same room, differentiated by flooring, and there was a hallway that led to a bathroom, laundry room, and two bedrooms. Keith withdrew a yogurt container and hoisted himself up onto the counter to eat. “Pretty standard. Couple guys tried to tip me in weed again.”

 

Pidge sighed heavily. “One of these days you’ll heed my advice and take it.”

 

Keith chuckled. “You gonna monitor that program all night?”

 

She made an exasperated sound. “It keeps breaking! I might need to have Matt come over and take a look at it tomorrow… erm… today. I thought I had all the kinks worked out, but it won’t budge.”

 

“Well,” Keith slid off the counter and headed for his room, “I’m gonna get some sleep. If he wakes me up again I’ll smother him.”

 

Pidge snorted. “‘Night.”

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Keith slept until about noon before he woke up to the sound of elephants in the living room.

 

No. Just one elephant. One loud, obnoxious elephant named Matt.

 

He groaned, but couldn’t exactly muster any real annoyance. It was only a couple hours before his shift started anyway, He threw on a t-shirt and stumbled into the living room rubbing his eyes. 

 

“Keith! You’re up!” Pidge’s older brother was always a ball of energy. “Now I don’t have to be quiet anymore!”

 

Keith snorted as he fumbled around in the cupboards looking for the coffee. “That was you being quiet?”

 

Matt was lounging on the couch playing a game on his 3DS while Pidge looked like she was about to throw her computer out the window. She was still in the same oversized hoodie and athletic shorts that she’d been wearing when he got home. “Ugh! Matt, will you make yourself useful and  _ help me _ ?”

 

Keith started boiling eggs while the siblings continued tinkering with Pidge’s program. He could tell it wasn’t a school assignment because Matt was here. She wouldn’t need his help for anything so mundane as schoolwork. Coffee in hand, Keith settled himself in his usual perch on the counter and began making a grocery list.

 

Matt came over and poured himself a cup while peering into Keith’s. “Ugh, you use creamer? Noob.”

 

Keith quirked an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me for wanting my coffee to taste good.”

 

Matt wrinkled his nose. “It just better not be pumpkin spice.”

 

Keith quietly sipped his drink. “Butter toffee.”

 

“ _ Not _ better.”

 

“So much better,” Keith corrected, taking another pull from his mug. Matt rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disappointment. 

 

“You aren’t living up to your stereotype.”

 

“I think both of you do that well enough to make up for every unstereotypical person in this apartment complex,” Keith jabbed. He glanced disdainfully at the clock on the stove. He had enough time to leisurely shower and throw on his uniform before he needed to head out for work. He pulled the eggs from the stove and quickly assembled them onto a couple slices of toast, dodging Matt’s greedy hand as he tried to steal.

 

“Make your own breakfast,” he mumbled through a mouthful of egg. “You practically live here anyway.”

 

Matt tried his puppy-dog eyes. Keith was unimpressed.

 

“I'll make you as many egg sandwiches as you want if you get over here and  _ help me like you said you would. _ ” Pidge swung her desk chair around angrily, the gleam from her glasses striking fear into the hearts of both men jabbering in the kitchen.

 

Keith feigned trying to whisper to Matt, blocking his mouth, but whisper-shouting so that his roommate could hear him perfectly clear from her post at her computer. 

 

“She hasn't slept and is running on Sour Patch Kids and Redbull. You might actually want to help her before she decides to rewire your face instead.”

 

At that she hurled an empty can at his head. He dodged, laughing, and made his way to the shower.

  
  


______________________________________________________________________________

 

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? AGAIN, LANCE?!” 

 

Lance and Allura laughed simultaneously as Fox flew off the map on the television screen, leaving only two characters to battle each other. 

 

“That's four more drinks, buddy,” Lance chuckled, elbowing a scowling Hunk in the ribs as he continued to smash the buttons on the controller in his hands. 

 

“You can't just BUTTON MASH as Pikachu EVERY TIME, Lance!” Hunk begrudgingly finished off the bottle in front of him, suddenly regretting the heavier beer choice he'd made for the night. 

 

“Apparently I can,” Lance winked as he did just that and shocked Allura’s character for the umpteenth time. A frustrated grumble escaped the woman as she struggled to get away. To her complete dismay, an item dropped right behind Lance on the screen, and the match was over. Flushed across her cheekbones, she stuck her tongue out at Lance.

 

“You probably should've drank not-wine if you were gonna lose this badly!” Lance chuckled, earning a death glare from Allura. 

 

“Next time we're banning you from Pikachu!” she shouted as she stomped to their kitchen to refill her wine glass. 

 

“That's not fair!” Lance pouted exaggeratedly, taking a drink of his own concoction of liquor in the plastic cup in front of him.

 

“No, what's not fair is how you use characters that require zero skill, get wasted on ‘victory shots,’ and still kick our asses every time we play Smash,” Hunk countered, pouring what must have been Lance's third shot of vodka and sliding it across the coffee table. Lance made a face at his best friend before tilting the shot glass into his mouth. 

 

“I'm just gifted, I guess,” Lance smirked. “What it sounds like is that you both just need to get better.”

 

“Yes, a better roommate, perhaps,” Allura joked as she returned, lightly punching Lance in the shoulder. 

 

Lance put his hand over his heart. “Allura,” he pretended to fight back tears. “How could you say something like that? And I was even going to order pizza to share!”

 

“Neither of us wants to share your gross Pikachu-spamming pineapple pizza!” Hunk laughed. 

 

“One, you're just mad because it works. Two, PINEAPPLE PIZZA IS DELICIOUS! But I guess I can order a lame-o pepperoni pizza for the  _ losers  _ to drown their sorrows in.” Lance opened the app on his phone. “Do you think they actually follow the ‘special instructions’ people leave?”

 

“My friend Rommelle says they wrote her a poem once when she asked. It was bad, but hilarious.” Allura peeked over Lance's shoulder. “Tell them to send their cutest delivery person!” 

 

Lance grinned. “Done and done! Order submitted. Now, if you two are tired of me beating you at Smash I could always beat you at Mario Kart instead.”

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


“Hey, Keith…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Would you describe yourself as cute?”

 

Keith turned to quirk an eyebrow at Shiro. “Where are you going with this?”

 

It was getting close to 10:00pm, when Keith’s shift was over. It had been a slow night, lots of college students seemed to have abandoned the town for the weekend due to the absence of a football game. Keith had spent almost as much time out on runs as he’d spent waiting for more orders, and most of the other delivery personnel had been sent home already.

 

Hardly able to contain his amusement, Shiro turned the computer screen so that Keith could read the order himself.

 

“No. Absolutely not.”

 

“Oh c’mon..”

 

“I  _ always _ get sent on these stupid runs and it’s  _ always _ really drunk sorority girls and it’s  _ always _ annoying.”

 

“The name on this account says Lance McClain. That doesn't sound like a sorority girl to me.”

 

“Oh  _ Hell  _ no, Shiro.” 

 

Shiro looked over his shoulder at the only other delivery driver currently in the shop. “Hey David, you’re good to go, Alex will be in at 10:30, I think we can manage until then.”

 

David shrugged and clocked out.

 

“Why are you like this?”

 

Shiro looked at him seriously. “I’m dead inside. Grad school is taking away my spirit. Let me have this small bit of entertainment. Besides,” he chuckled, “he wrote ‘cutest delivery  _ person _ ’ which means...”

 

“Are you seriously trying to set me up with a random customer?! What if he's some creepy old townie with a red room of pain in his basement. You never know, Shiro!”

 

“I'm just saying, maybe he's also cute. And gay. Or at least bisexual.”

 

Keith’s face went as red as his jacket. “Can. You.  _ NOT _ ?”

 

“Unfortunately for you, I’m your boss, so I can.” Shiro smirked at him. “Pizza will be up in ten minutes.”

 

Keith plopped in a nearby chair to wait. “You’re literally the worst.”

 

“Oh quit being so overdramatic,” he replied cheerfully, turning the computer back to face him and resuming his work.

 

Soon enough, the pizzas were boxed, bagged, and in the passenger seat of Keith’s car as he drove the short distance to the delivery destination.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


They were halfway through Rainbow Road when Lance’s phone buzzed. He quickly glanced over to see the Domino’s tracker update.

 

“Hey guys! Our order is on its way! They sent someone named Keith…”

 

“He's probably a big scary dude with face tattoos just to spite both of you,” Hunk quipped, not looking away from the race he was miserably losing on the screen.

 

“How did you manage to look at your phone and  _ not _ fall off?” Allura demanded. 

 

“What can I say, natural talent,” Lance drawled with a shrug. “Could do this in my sleep.”

 

They finished the race right as headlights shone across the mini-blinds behind them. Hunk and Allura were still shouting.

 

“That is  _ such _ crap,  _ how _ did you get a blue shell from 5th place?!”

 

“You’ve got mods on this game don’t you?!”

 

The bell rang and a smirk found its way to Hunk’s face. 

 

“Lance! Your cute delivery boy is here with your disgusting pineapple pizza!” he shouted  _ at  _ the front door. Revenge sparkled in Allura’s eyes. 

 

“Why Lance, I had no idea you were putting ‘cutest delivery person’ in the special instructions,” she also shouted.” You told me you were just going to tell them to draw a Pikachu on the box!”

 

Lance glared daggers at the two of them as he rose to answer the door. Beet red and fumbling with his wallet, he turned the doorknob and was nearly knocked off his feet by the boy who stood holding his pizza with the most adorably annoyed face he thought he'd ever seen in his life? He attempted a quick recovery.

 

“Heyy.. sorry about them, they’re really  _ sore losers _ ,” he looked pointedly at his roommates. “Uhh, how much was it?”

 

Keith blinked, the question not quite registering as his brain was overloaded by completely unwelcome and totally intrusive thoughts of how actually attractive the person standing in front of him turned out to be. He shook his head and checked the receipt before handing it to Lance to sign.

 

“Twenty-six seventy-nine…” Keith patted down his own pockets, quickly realizing, “I left my pen at the store… sorry…”

 

That seemed to snap Lance out of his stupor.

 

“Ah that's fine, hang on a sec!” The lanky boy bolted away from the door, allowing Hunk and Allura a clear view of Keith from their places on the couch.

 

“Ho-ly quiznak,” Allura whispered to Hunk. “I didn’t think they’d actually do it.”

 

“Neither did Lance,” Hunk chuckled, watching his best friend fumbling through the junk drawer in the kitchen for a pen. Keith stood awkwardly in the doorway as Lance returned with the signed receipt. 

 

“Th-thanks buddy,” Lance sputtered, the blush high on his cheekbones having set up a permanent residence there. Keith schooled his expression before taking the slip of paper and handing the boxes over to Lance.

 

“No problem. And next time, maybe just request the Pikachu…” He was going to  _ murder  _ Shirogane for this. 

 

As Lance took the boxes his hand accidentally brushed one of Keith’s and he almost dropped the pizzas. They quickly locked eyes in surprise for a split second before Lance got a better grip on them, practically shouted his thanks, and all but slammed the door.

 

Keith returned to his car, checking the receipt as he buckled his seat belt. At least the guy was a decent tipper. A decent tipper with really pretty blue eyes… 

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Lance stood facing the door for a solid minute after he slammed it shut.

 

Hunk and Allura were attempting to stifle their giggles.

 

“Uhh, Lance? Can we have our pizza?”

 

No response.

 

“Earth to Lance. You seem to have entered an area of deep space out of range of our communications. Please come in, over,” Hunk broadcasted from behind a loose fist.

 

Lance turned his head ever so slightly in their direction, but his eyes were still unfocused. “Is this death?”

 

At this admission, Allura and Hunk absolutely dissolved into a fit of laughter.

 

“Seriously guys, I don't think I can go on. The cutest human in the history of humans was just at my front door, and all I could muster up to say was, ‘thanks buddy.’” 

 

“Tragic, really,” Hunk chortled, wiping a tear from his eye. “And you always posture as this unruffleable stud.”

 

“And people  _ believe _ it! You're normally so smooth! What happened back there,  _ Loverboy _ ?” Allura teased. “ _ Keith _ got your tongue?” 

 

At that, Hunk totally lost it. His laughing fit tossed him off the couch and onto the floor.

 

The loud  _ thump _ knocked Lance out of his reverie. 

 

“Y’know, I might just eat all this pizza myself if you two are gonna be so  _ mean _ …”

 

Just then they heard the sound of a car starting and saw lights move across the window.

 

“Wait a minute,” Lance did drop the pizzas this time and bounded over across the couch to peek between the blinds. Just in time to see a black car pull out of his driveway.

 

“Was he just sitting there that whole time??”

 

“Maybe you had just as much of an effect on him,” Hunk proposed.

 

Was it just Lance or was his heart beating faster at that idea?

  
  


______________________________________________________________________________

 

“You survived, I see. How was the red room of pain?” Shiro didn't even look up from the payroll he was working on as Keith stomped through the front entrance.  “Or did Lance turn out to be a sorority girl after all?”

 

Keith didn’t answer as he hauled his delivery bags onto the counter and headed towards the time clock to punch out.

 

“That bad, huh?”

 

“Are you even running a pizza joint? Because sometimes I think it's just a cover for a bad reality TV show. Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera?” Keith exaggeratedly searched the corners of the storefront for such a device hidden among the ceiling tiles.

 

“Are you…” Shiro looked at him closer, his grin widening. “Blushing?”

 

“I swear to GOD Takashi…”

 

“You are!” Shiro couldn't contain the amusement on his face. “He was cute, wasn't he?”

 

Keith made an exasperated noise, his cheeks burning. “I’m going home.”

 

“Did you get his number?!”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“No worries! It's in the system, I'll send it to you!” Shiro returned his attention to the paperwork in front of him.

 

“Isn't that illegal or something? It's definitely creepy!” Keith violently emptied his pockets of crumpled pizza receipts. 

 

“Only if it’s unwelcome…” Shiro gave him the side eye.

 

“Bye.”


	2. Everything Bagel

The rest of the weekend was uneventful. Keith spent a good part of Sunday afternoon at the art building finishing his drawing with the proper light perspective, and Monday morning classes came around with a vengeance with his unusual sleeping patterns, given that he stayed up most of the previous night playing Mario Party with Pidge and Matt.

 

(9:05) Remind me again why we played 50 turns?

 

_ (9:09) Because only noobs play anything less.  _

 

Keith groaned and sank his chin onto his tiny lecture desk, bemoaning his lack of sleep and his choice in roommates. He doodled instead of taking notes, deciding he would copy Pidge’s later since she had espresso in her veins and was somehow alert. He also made a mental note to determine whether or not she was human, since he still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t some kind of alien that didn’t require sleep.

 

He had an hour and a half break before his next class, so he went to the cafe near the art building and got himself a caramel latte and an everything bagel. He had abandoned the idea of breakfast in favor of more sleep earlier that morning and was now regretting it. Gratefully munching on his bagel, he decided to develop his tiny doodles from class to cover the whole page. He had almost finished when he heard a familiar voice. 

 

“Keith!” 

 

He glanced over the top of the second half of his bagel, surprised to see Shiro approaching him from the entrance.

 

“Don't you have a thesis to revise until you keel over from exhaustion?” 

 

Shiro came to sit with Keith at the two-person table.

 

“I'm taking a break to meet up with a prospective member from the fraternity for an interview.”

 

“Band nerd…” Keith muttered. “Kappa Kappa something?”

 

“Psi,” Shiro nodded. 

 

“Right. Gross.” 

 

Shiro rolled his eyes. 

 

“You'd like it if you tried it,” Shiro asserted.

 

“Last time I checked, you can't march guitar.”

 

“I could easily teach you crash symbols.”

 

“Does anyone really need to be  _ taught _ crash symbols?”

 

“... Fair…” 

 

“Yeah… I'll see you later Shiro. Have fun reliving your glory days with the marching band… nerd…”

 

“Dick.” Shiro laughed as Keith stood and tossed the paper napkin from his bagel in the trash. 

 

He headed across the street to the art building, somewhat more prepared for class than he had been previously. One of his favorite parts of being an art major was spending copious amounts of time sitting quietly and in his own world. Since he was in second level courses, there wasn’t as much instruction, and he was able to primarily do just that. 

 

As he was getting supplies from his locker, he happened to notice a familiar voice approaching from down the hallway.

 

“I’m just saying, we all learned the color spectrum  _ ages _ ago, why do we have to spend the first two weeks learning about color  _ now _ ?”

 

Keith turned his head ever so slightly and his breath hitched in his throat.

 

Walking down the hallway was someone in a light blue tank top and basketball shorts who looked an awful lot like Lance. 

 

He had his bag over one shoulder and was laughing at whatever his friend’s response to his complaint was, clearly fresh out of an entry level course, if he was complaining about learning colors. Keith couldn’t help but notice how Lance’s entire expression lit up when he was laughing. He pulled his locker door open a bit more to hide his face, wishing he’d worn a hoodie instead of just a t-shirt. Because that tank top made it fairly obvious that Lance was very nicely muscled and Keith was having quite a difficult time battling down intrusive thoughts that had little to do with color wheels and sketch books.

 

Also just what even are the  _ odds _ ?

 

He made a mental note to ask Pidge later.

 

And then immediately erased that mental note vowing to never mention this to Pidge ever.

 

They strolled by the locker without incident, which was lucky considering most people would wonder why someone had stuck their entire head inside their locker, and once they had walked around the corner Keith let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He shut the locker and headed in the opposite direction for the stairwell, mentally willing his face to return to a normal hue.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Lance felt cheated.

 

He had  _ thought _ that taking an Intro to Painting class would be fun and exciting, but so far all they’d done is create a seven-step gradient from black to white and learn how to make purple. It had been his least favorite class so far, mostly because it was three hours long and  _ boring _ . 

 

Until today.

 

Because today, he was almost kind of a little certain that  _ maybe _ he saw Keith in the art building.

 

He still wasn’t entirely sure though. He and Hunk had been walking down the hallway towards the exit when someone vaguely resembling Keith in black jeans, a red t-shirt, and grey knit cap had been at one of the nearby lockers. But when he tried to get a good look, his view was obstructed by the locker door, and before he knew it the mystery person was walking back in the direction Lance had come from. 

 

Something he  _ had _ noticed though, regardless of whether or not it was actually Keith, was that his shirt had ridden up slightly while reaching into his locker, showing off a muscled midriff that Lance had to force himself to look away from.

 

And now, waiting out front of this cafe for his Big Brother in the fraternity he was joining, he  _ really  _ needed to push that image from his mind. Hunk left him to catch the bus back to the commuter lot to drop off a few textbooks at his car. As the bus pulled away, Matt Holt, said Big Brother, was strolling across the street. 

 

“Ready to meet the man behind the legend?”

 

“I think so?” Lance answered. He still wasn't positive when Matt was joking and when he was being serious, which was apparently a problem many people had. 

 

“Shiro’s great, you'll love him. He's your great grand Big. He really helped a lot of us who are in the fraternity now figure out how to do the whole college thing. Pidge even likes him.”

 

Based on Lance's interactions with Pidge, Matt’s younger sister who was also in the fraternity, that was actually rather impressive. Pidge wasn't necessarily difficult to like, but was definitely difficult to impress. 

 

“There he is!” Matt made his way over to a handsome man seated alone at a table, reading over a thick document. “He's in grad school, but don't let his smarts fool you. Dude's a party animal.”

 

Just then, Shiro looked up and spotted them. 

 

“Matt! Nice to see you! And this must be the poor soul placed in your charge.” He smiled warmly at Lance and extended his hand. “Shirogane Takashi.”

 

Lance shook his hand. 

 

“Lance McClain,” he introduced. He worried a bit when Shiro’s eyes widened. Assuming the reason for such a response, Lance continued.“Really, that's my actual name. My parents are both Cuban, but my dad is like a quarter Irish on his dad's side. It's weird, I know.”

 

Shiro chuckled. 

 

“Ah, yeah, that is odd. Cool though. It's nice to meet you, Lance.”

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


When Shiro agreed to do an interview for a prospective fraternity member, he had no idea it would pan out so perfectly. It actually required a significant amount of effort for him not to ruin it all right then and there.

 

Lance was an excellent membership candidate. His major wasn't music, but band was clearly one of his passions. Shiro hadn't pursued music either, though he had seriously thought about it in his sophomore year. 

 

Lance was a trombone player, which made perfect sense to Shiro after a few minutes of conversation. He was quirky and friendly, but not overly confident. At least not about everything. Shiro had been a percussionist, himself. Being in the marching band and the fraternity helped him get out of his shell and form friendships that had lasted him the last five years. It seemed like Lance was looking for the same thing. 

 

At the end of the interview, Lance was looking a little more sure of himself, and seemed confident about wanting to rush Kappa. He left to go meet up with his friends, and as soon as he was gone Shiro pulled out his phone to text Keith.

 

(13:12) Hey how’s class?

 

_ (13:19) Fine…? How was the interview? _

 

(13:20) Oh, ya know, the usual… was some kid named Lance McClain…

 

_ (13:21) Oh haha, you’re hilarious _

 

(13:21) Mmmm but I’m not joking

 

[IMAGE SENT]

 

_ [IMAGE RECEIVED] _

 

(13:25) He insisted on a selfie

 

(13:37) Keith?

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Keith was in total shock.

 

He stifled the sound of complete surprise that he was certain would've earned him the attention of his currently lecturing professor. He sunk behind his sketchboard and debated whether or not this was the divine intervention of some benevolent but humorous deity or the work of an evil patron trying to enslave him to fate. His screen lit up silently again.

 

(13:49) Did your brain explode? Surely you realize then, that Pidge and Matt also know him. He's in the Marching Band. Trombone player. Second year. Education major. Giant family. Bilingual. Very cute, but not your usual type, which for you might be a good thing. 

 

(13:52)  _ Shiro if you spent half the amount of time focusing on your schoolwork that you do matchmaking, you'd already have your PhD. Why do you have time to do this to me? _

 

(13:53) Keith you are a priority in my life. How could I not make time for this. 

 

(13:54) [CONTACT DATA SENT]

 

_ (13:54) [CONTACT DATA RECEIVED] Lance McClain _

 

(13:55)  _ You're insufferable. _

 

(13:55) Love you too, Mopey Lion.

 

(13:56)  _ I am going to KILL Pidge for showing you that photo! _

 

He discreetly returned his phone to his pocket as the professor finished his lecture on developing depth in charcoal renderings and turned his attention to copying the blurry image displayed on the PowerPoint slide, trying not to think of anything else and failing miserably.

 

He recalled the hesitation he felt after exiting his car in Lance’s driveway when he could hear indistinguishable shouting coming from the house. Keith was extremely tempted to claim discomfort and not deliver the pizza...until he realized the shouting was related to Mario Kart. It made him chuckle to himself as he approached the door. But as soon as he rang the bell he could hear two of the people inside loudly talking about the cute delivery boy and he had to fight to keep his face straight after all the ribbing Shiro had done before he left the restaurant. 

 

And Lance was incredibly attractive, he couldn’t deny that. The only thing he couldn’t figure out is why he cared so much when all he’d done was deliver pizza for the guy…

 

Before long, class was over and Keith decided to go to the on-campus gym to clear his head before going home. He always kept spare clothes in his bag, since he frequently found himself needing to blow off steam somehow, though this wasn’t usually the reason for it. On his way there he ran into Pidge and Matt who were outside the Student Center to wait for a bus to the commuter lot.

 

“...seemed really nervous at first, but he texted me after saying he thought it went really well.”

 

“That sounds about right,” Pidge chuckled. “Lance shifts pretty fast from overdramatic to overconfident, but he’s a good guy. Hey Keith, what’s with the scowl?”

 

Keith could not believe this was the conversation topic.

 

He shrugged. “Nothing, I’m gonna head to the gym. I’ll see you at home?”

 

Without waiting for a reply, he crossed the street to enter the Rec Center. He ran a couple miles before doing his usual weight circuit, and by the end he was feeling much better and not at all concerned about a certain blue-eyed someone. 

 

On his way home he stopped at the grocery store to pick up some sushi for dinner (normally he would be wary of grocery store sushi, but this stuff was legit) and a handful of necessities. He was looking forward to challenging Pidge to a Mario Party rematch if they could start early enough.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Lance’s brain was going to explode.

 

How was he supposed to learn all this history about the fraternity in such a short period of time? He was glad Pidge offered to help him study, but what he really wanted to do was play one of the video games lining the shelves near the tv.

 

“Woah, you have Mario Kart Double Dash?! That’s the best one!”   
  


“Eh,” Pidge returned, “eight is better, but my brother abducted the system.”

 

“Of course he did,” Lance chuckled. He glanced back down at his laptop where he'd pulled up the fraternity’s national website. “So you memorized all of this stuff too?”

 

Pidge nodded. 

 

“I can teach you some acronyms we used to remember the Founding Fathers. And I always remember it started in Stillwater, Oklahoma because Matt calls it ‘Stagnant Pond,’ because he's Matt.”

 

“Well now I'll never forget that,” Lance smiled as he jotted it down into his notebook. 

 

As they continued, they heard someone slowly climbing the stairs. They could hear muffled cursing before someone irritably kicked the door a couple times.

 

“Oh, that’s just my roommate,” Pidge commented boredly from her computer desk. “Will you let him in? His hands are probably full of groceries because he refuses to make more than one trip.”

 

Lance chuckled. “Sounds like something I’d do,” he mused, hoisting himself from the floor.

 

“Of course it is,” Pidge scoffed. “You two will probably get along great.”

 

Lance opened the door and found himself face-to-face with Keith.

 

He had a backpack over one shoulder and his arms were heavily laden with grocery bags. Lance couldn’t help noticing that his t-shirt was just a smidge tight over his muscled frame, and his dark eyes widened in surprise as he looked back at Lance in confusion.

 

“You’re not Pidge.”

 

“Your powers of observation are stunning as always,” Pidge responded from within. “Did you get me more Sour Patch Kids to replace the ones you stole?”

 

Keith rolled his eyes at that, visibly relaxing. “I only took a handful from an almost two pound bag.” He looked at Lance again. “Could I, uh…”

 

“Oh, um, yeah,” Lance laughed nervously and stepped aside to let him pass.

 

“Was that a ‘no’ then?” Pidge asked, still not noticing the awkwardness occurring just behind her.

 

Keith grunted as he lifted all the bags to the countertop, and then sighed as he tossed a large bag of candy in her general direction.

 

“You are forgiven,” she smirked, picking up the bag and shoving it into a desk drawer. 

 

“Glad to hear it,” he deadpanned. Turning back to the rest of the groceries to start putting them away. “So...who’s this?”

 

Lance was half-offended and half-relieved that Keith either didn't recognize him, or wanted to ignore the fact that he'd oogled him at his front door just two nights before. Because that was  _ definitely  _ Pizza Guy Keith. Lance would recognize that mullet from a mile away. 

 

“This is Lance, he’s rushing Kappa. Matt was helping him with his interviews and then I offered to help him study. Lance, this is my moody, candy thieving roommate, Keith.”

 

“It was  _ one time _ Pidge. And I thought you’d said it was enough repentance that you completely destroyed me in Mario Party last night.”

 

“Nice intro,” Lance chuckled. He held out his hand to Keith, who looked at it before reluctantly shaking it and turning back to his task, but not before Lance noticed a slight flush creeping up his neck. Lance made a mental note of that interesting development, but said nothing.

 

He also couldn’t help thinking about how  _ warm _ Keith’s hand had been.

 

“So you're a band nerd too, then?” Keith didn't look up from the grocery bags in front of him. 

 

“Trombone section,” Lance answered. “Are you not in band?”

 

“Nah, I get a healthy enough dose of marching band just being around Pidge, Matt, and Shiro. I get all the gossip without having to put on a wool uniform and march around in hundred-degree weather. Plus I don't play anything I could march with.” 

 

“‘Anything you could march with’?” Lance repeated slyly.

 

“He's an emo classic rock kid who plays guitar to himself in his bedroom when he doesn't think I'm home,” Pidge laughed.

 

“Rude,” Keith scoffed. “I recently picked up ukulele, too.” 

 

“Right, right… so you can play that ukulele screamo music you listen to...”

 

“... Twenty One Pilots?!” Lance interjected. 

 

He and Keith shared a genuinely surprised look while Pidge groaned.

 

“That's it. Both of you get out. I can't believe you like the same weird-ass music.”

 

“Woah woah woah, Pidge,” Lance rounded on her in sudden indignation. “Just because they're not mainstream doesn't mean they're weird. Just you wait. Someday you'll be listening to the radio and boom… Kitchen Sink will seep straight through your speakers and into your  _ soul. _ ” 

 

Keith was amused. “That was quite an impassioned speech. Won’t work on Pidge, though, she doesn’t  _ have _ a soul.”

 

Pidge finally turned her chair all the way around to subject the two of them to the full power of her death glare, but during its loading sequence, something kept the malice from completely reflecting from her spectacles.

 

“ _ What _ ?” Keith demanded defensively.

 

A slow smile started spreading across her features.

 

Keith drew his eyebrows together obstinately. “I’m going to shower,” he mumbled, stomping out of the room.

 

Baffled by the apparently telepathic exchange between the two of them, Lance looked at each of them in turn before shooting a confused look at Pidge, whose steepled fingers partially hid the grin on her face.

 

“What… just happened?”

 

Pidge didn’t immediately answer, apparently enjoying some private joke. “I’ve known Keith Kogane for a  _ very _ long time. I can read him like a book. It annoys him.”

 

“Uh huhh…” Lance replied slowly, doing some mental calculations. “In any case, I should probably get going. I have an eight AM class and have some homework to do before it gets too late. And I need to keep up on my beauty sleep since we'll be losing so much of it to the football game this Saturday.”

 

“Beauty sleep?” Pidge quirked an eyebrow at him.

 

“I know, I know, I seem naturally good looking, but this takes effort, Pidge!”

 

“Uh-huh. See you at practice tomorrow?”

 

“Sounds good. And thanks for the study tips!” He went to gather up his notebooks. “And next time we’ll have to break out Double Dash so I can kick your butt!”

 

“I agree. I need a new opponent to destroy, Keith is getting predictable.”

 

Lance just chuckled at that. Of all the words Lance could use to describe Keith Kogane, he's pretty sure that one wouldn't make the list.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Keith emerged from the bathroom thirty minutes later and was both disappointed and relieved to note that Lance had left. Ignoring any implications there, he retrieved his sushi from the fridge and plopped himself down on the sofa, only to find himself face-to-face with Pidge’s knowing look once again.

 

“ _ What _ ?” he groaned.

 

“Don’t  _ what _ me!” she shot back. “I know what flirting looks like!”

 

“ _ What _ ?!” he yelped. “That’s not what that was!”

 

“Yeah sure. I totally believe that. You could definitely pass a polygraph with that defense. Your hands are sweating, aren't they?” She reached for his wrists.

 

“N-no! They're not!” He snatched them out of reach.

 

“Lemme see then! If they're dry, you’re telling the truth! Nothing to hide, right?” She pouted as he shoved his hands beneath him. “It was almost like you recognized him from somewhere. Where'd you meet Lance? Oh my God, he wasn't an episode in the, ‘Keith Ho-Gane’ phase, was he?”

 

“The  _ what?! _ You really  _ call it that _ ?”

 

Pidge laughed.

 

“Shiro came up with that one.”

 

“I hate both of you,” he pouted, angrily eating a piece of sushi.

 

“Aww c’mon Keith. Tell meeeee. I'm dying here.”

 

“Good, maybe I'll finally get to eat my sushi in peace for once, instead of being  _ berated _ by my roommate about an alleged interaction I apparently had with a  _ complete stranger _ .” He huffed at her before shoving another piece into his mouth.

 

“I wonder if  _ Lance _ would tell me…” she mused, pulling out her phone.

 

“Katie Anne Holt do  _ not _ make me put your phone on top of the fridge again.”

 

“So you think he might?” She smirked at him, phone screen lighting up beneath her chin. Before he could tackle her, Pidge was down the hall and locked behind her bedroom door. 

 

“Really Pidge? There's nothing to tell! Honestly!”

 

“Mmmm… don't believe you,” she answered, voice muffled behind the door. “How does this sound? ‘Hey Lance, so I noticed my roommate making eyes at you in our kitchen earlier. He had a casual hookup-with-random-dudes phase and I just have to know…”

 

“Pidge…” Keith warned.

 

“Actually I think I'll just call him!” She decided cheerily. 

 

“I DELIVERED PIZZA TO HIS HOUSE THE OTHER DAY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT CALL HIM!” 

 

The door cracked open.

 

“See? Was that so hard? I believe that.”

 

Keith seized the opportunity to throw the door open and knocked her to the ground. Ignoring her shouts of protest, he snatched her phone away and immediately took it to the kitchen and put it on top of the fridge. “This is what you get, shorty.”

 

Out of breath from their scuffle, Pidge entered the living room. 

 

“So if that's all…” she panted, “why were you dodging the question?”

 

“Because…” he invented wildly, “I knew you’d be ridiculous about any delivery stories involving attractive guys.”

 

“Sooo what am I supposed to be taking away from this? That there is in fact a story there, or that you find him attractive?” She crossed her arms and leaned triumphantly against the wall.

 

“I… you…” Keith’s entire face flushed. He screwed up his expression. “You’re the worst!” 

 

“Or the best,” she corrected. “So what happened? Did he answer the door shirtless and sweep you and his pizza off your feet? Woo you with his winning smile and cheesy pick up lines? Give you a lap dance?”

 

“Lap dance? What the Hell Pidge?”

 

She shrugged, amused. 

 

“He… well either him or one of his roommates… they left special instructions on the order to ‘send the cutest delivery person,’ with their pizza, so Shiro forced me to go on the run, because he's the Devil incarnate and takes joy in watching me suffer.”

 

“Classic,” Pidge chuckled. 

 

“Cruel and unusual,” Keith countered.

 

“But hilarious.” 

 

“Traitor.”

 

“But anyway, so you knocked on the door expecting not-Lance, were greeted by Lance, and that's bad somehow?”

 

“Well it wouldn’t be! If I didn’t keep running into him  _ everywhere _ ! First in the art building, now here?” He flopped over face-first on the couch. “And it’s pretty obvious he’ll be around, considering you and Matt are helping him rush…”

 

“Am I missing something?” She threw her hands in the air. “Because I was under the impression that you  _ liked _ him. Or at least like to look at him. Is that not the case?” 

 

“Well… I mean that’s… not  _ entirely _ inaccurate…” he mumbled into the cushion. 

 

Pidge’s expression softened. “So what’s the issue?”

 

He sighed heavily. “It’s just… I’m not exactly, y’know,  _ boyfriend material _ . People always think I’m the ‘weird emo kid’ or the ‘loner’. I wouldn’t even know what to do. And he’s… well him! I mean I can tell just by having one conversation with him that he’s the kind of person people just  _ like _ ! That’s never been me.”

 

She rolled her eyes affectionately at him. “Keith I’ve known you for  _ forever _ . I promise you, you’re hugely overthinking this. Lance is nice, and fun to be around. And I’m pretty sure he could give you a run for your money in Smash.”

 

“Oh yeah?” he grinned up at her. “I’d like to see him try.”

 

“Well, you’re not wrong about him being around more. We should make time for a game night this week. Sound good?”

 

He turned to face her, a small smile on his face. “Yeah...that sounds nice.”


	3. Chinese Take Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the kudos and comments! We honestly started writing this because it had been a while since we’d done a collab and Dunu found the au a couple days before she was off for the weekend. It’s kinda turned into a therapeutic exercise, so we’re just gonna see where the story goes. Things kinda start getting heated this chapter, so we hope you like it!

The next couple days passed without incident. Keith didn’t run into Lance at the art building, or anywhere else for that matter. They were still working on their still lifes in Intermediate Painting, and his Intermediate Drawing class was about to start charcoal drawings in the library. He spent most of his free time occupying random benches on campus drawing in his sketchbook or hitting up the Rec Center. 

 

Work was uneventful as well, though every now and again he would catch Shiro grinning at him knowingly and he silently cursed Pidge and her big mouth. Once, Shiro caught him before going out on a big run and asked him to draw a pokemon on a box of garlic knots, but that was it. 

 

By the time Thursday rolled around, all the closing shifts and early classes had caught up to him. So when Keith got home from his last afternoon class, he almost immediately fell asleep on the couch despite his intentions to read his Psychology textbook for a couple hours.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Lance and Hunk were leaning against Lance’s car in the complex parking lot waiting for Pidge.

 

They were all supposed to be meeting up for a game night, but Pidge was running late because Matt decided he wanted to pick up takeout for everyone.

 

_ (18:34) Sorry guys, we’re almost there. Matt insisted on stopping for Hy-Chi, but we got enough for everyone _

 

(18:36) No worries dude. And thanks that sounds great because I’m starving! We’ll chip in

 

_ (18:37) Cool. And sorry you’re stuck outside, I can’t get a hold of Keith, so I’m not sure what’s going on there. He sounded excited when we talked about doing this earlier in the week.. _

 

(18:38) Nbd, we’re just chillin :)

 

Lance couldn’t quite hide the disappointment building in his stomach. He had liked the idea of getting to spend more time with Keith, especially now that he had a conversation topic in mind to ask him about. Keith was an amazing artist, judging by the Pikachu he had received drawn on his order of garlic knots. He only knew it was him because he’d signed it. The guy who’d delivered his food told him Keith had only spent a few minutes on it because he was about to leave on his own run.

 

“Laaance, you still with me, buddy?”

 

Hunk jolted Lance out of his reverie. “Oh! Sorry man. Pidge and Matt are almost here, they picked up some Chinese food for everyone.”

 

“That’s cool of them, I think I’ve got some cash on me. Was that what you were thinking so hard about? You seem distracted.”

 

Lance forced a laugh. “Nah, I’m just thinking about all the ways I’m gonna kick your ass at Smash.” He saw a car pulling towards them and was thankful for any excuse to turn his face from Hunk. “Oh cool they’re here.”

 

Pidge and Matt zoomed over to where they were and climbed out of the car, arms laden with their prize. “We’ve come bearing gifts!” Pidge hollered. “Let us begin the ritual!”

 

The two of them moved to help with the bags while Pidge took the lead up the stairs to unlock the door. She led the way inside and went to set up the gaming system while the others began unpacking the food. Suddenly she let out a quiet snort of laughter.

 

“Welp,” she chuckled, “that explains why he wasn’t answering my texts.”

 

Lightly breathing and apparently dead to the world, Keith lay on the couch, legs tossed over the arm of it, with the crook of his elbow draped over his eyes. A textbook lay forgotten nearby. She held up her index finger over her lips as everyone else came to see what she was looking at, took a picture for blackmail purposes, and then began gently poking his face. 

 

“Sleeping beauuty… Keiiith… Keith wake uuuppp…” 

 

“Pidge, please tell me there's a good reason you're risking your life to interrupt my nap right now,” Keith mumbled from under his own arm. 

 

“Aww, did you forget about game night, sleepy head?!”

 

At Lance's voice, Keith shot up, nearly knocking heads with Pidge. Hunk’s face drained of color in mortification as he recognized Pizza Guy Keith now sitting up on the couch. 

 

“Hunk, that's  _ Pidge’s roommate, Keith _ . This is my roommate Hunk. He plays sousaphone in the band,” Lance grinned widely between them, enjoying the complete embarrassment on his best friend's face. Payback is so, so sweet. 

 

“Hello, Pidge’s roommate Keith.” Hunk narrowed his eyes at Lance. Keith suddenly realized Lance's prank and covered the smile on his face hurriedly with his fingerless-gloved palm. 

 

“Nice to meet you, Lance's roommate Hunk.”

 

Pidge seemed to get the joke too as another loud snort escaped her small body. 

 

“Alright, now that that's over, let's do this.”

 

Keith sat up and scooted to the farthest end of the couch to make room for everyone. While Lance and Matt handled sorting the food, Hunk admired Pidge and Keith's (mostly Pidge’s) collection of video games. The more Keith thought about it, the more he thought he remembered Hunk’s name occurring in some of Pidge’s recounting of epic band party stories as the hero who always had snacks in his backpack. Considering Pidge attended said parties high as a fucking kite, the two became fast friends last year. Hunk and Pidge were both in the Engineering School too, if memory served. 

 

Pidge was going for computer engineering, to the surprise of absolutely no one. Hunk's major was mechanical engineering. It showed in the way Hunk practically  _ drooled _ over Pidge’s gaming PC which she and Matt had built of course. 

 

Keith realized currently that the pair had stopped talking and were glancing mischievously over at Keith. Hunk smiled and nodded wordlessly at Pidge and sat himself at the other end of Keith's couch. Pidge took a perch in her computer chair. As Matt and Lance made for the living room, Matt set his own plate on the coffee table and handed Pidge’s to her. Of course, Matt then plopped down onto the floor, per his strange yet predictable behavior, leaving the only available seat for Lance  _ right next to Keith _ .

 

Lance noticed as well, and glared wordlessly at the two of them as he carried three heavily laden plates over to the couch. He set them down on the coffee table in front of them and attempted to casually settle himself in the center of the couch, hoping it looked nonchalant. Pidge wasn’t even attempting to hide her smirk as she booted up the gamecube. “Alright, there’s five of us, so loser trades out. Who wants to sit out first?”

 

Keith grunted through a mouthful of food. “I will, I’m still waking up.”

 

Lance glanced over at him. “I think you just want to find out our weaknesses so you can exploit them later.”

 

The corner of Keith’s mouth twitched as he took another bite of fried rice. “Something like that.”

 

“Well, be warned,” Hunk interjected, “Lance is a button-masher.”

 

“Pfft. Noted.”

 

“An effective button-masher,” Lance corrected.

 

“You get exactly one match as Pikachu,” Hunk told him. “Make it count.”

 

“Fiiiine,” Lance groaned. “Meanie.”

 

“Alright,” Matt practically shouted, completely unnecessarily, “The game is as follows: we play five stocks. Whoever takes fourth sits out a round. Button mashers will be punished, this is skilled play only, what are we, animals?!”

 

“Punished how?!” Lance whined.

 

“I have a bottle of rum in the freezer…” Keith suggested.

 

“But that just makes button mashing worse!” Lance laughed.

 

“Time to learn, Little Brother,” Matt teased. “Only skilled players allowed in this Chapter.”

 

“Wait, then how'd you get in?” Pidge chided from behind him.

 

“Let’s begin!” Matt shouted, ignoring her.

 

In the first round, Lance picked Samus, Pidge was Mr. Game and Watch, Hunk was Fox, and Matt was Kirby. The game was relatively short-lived, since most of the players were unfamiliar with each other’s styles. Matt got out first, mostly because Lance heavily targeted him for the button mashing comments. After that happened, Matt declared everyone was too sober for this and lamented that it was Thirsty Thursday anyway, so what were they even doing? 

 

Hunk got out next, and Pidge and Lance fought each other for a solid five minutes, each of them getting above three-hundred percent damage levels before one of them landed a killing blow. Naturally, Lance was victorious.

 

“See?” he crowed triumphantly. “I’m a god. No one can beat me.”

 

“We’ll see about that,” Keith shot back, moving to take all their plates back to the counter and grabbing Matt’s abandoned controller before resuming his place on the couch. 

 

“Everybody stop!” Matt roared as he barged into the apartment, arms laden with large, unmarked styrofoam cups. “Get over here and grab a cup, lick it, carve your name, whatever, and take a few drinks before continuing this grand quest!”

 

Pidge just rolled her eyes. “You’re such a drama queen.”

 

Everyone followed their elder’s orders, hesitantly taking a drink of whatever concoction they had been presented with before resuming their seats.

 

“Is this…” Lance pondered for a moment, “raspberry lemonade?”

 

“With silver bullet probably,” Keith nodded. “Matt is an enabler.”

 

“You mean I know how to party!” Matt ruffled Keith’s hair as he walked behind him to come back into the living room. 

 

Keith rolled his eyes, but made no attempt to smooth his hair, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Lance.

 

_ He looks so cute with bedhead… _

 

“So you two idiots ready, or what?” Pidge smirked over at them. 

 

Lance quickly refocused on the tv, but thought he saw Keith watching him out of the corner of his eye. He could feel his cheeks getting warm at the thought.

 

The next match, the three original players kept their same characters, and Keith chose Yoshi. But when the game started, it was clear that Keith had the upper hand, especially from watching the first round. It came down to him and Lance, but Keith kept using his B attack to lay Lance as an egg off the edge of the map. Eventually it worked.

 

Lance was furious, but no one else could stop laughing at the ridiculousness of the tactic.

 

“This is  _ stupid _ !” Lance raged as Keith tried to catch his breath. “You know what, we’re enforcing one of  _ our _ rules. Victor takes a shot!”

 

“Yeah, because it always worked so well on you,” Hunk said through his giggles.

 

“Fine,” Keith quirked one amused eyebrow. “But that means you have to take a shot too since you won the first round.”

 

He stood up on the couch and swung himself over the back of it and into the kitchen to pull his bottle of rum from the freezer. After retrieving the bottle and a shot glass he returned, accidentally leaning into Lance as he resettled himself. Keith poured a shot for himself and quickly downed it before pouring one for Lance and offering it.

 

Lance grabbed the glass from the rim to prevent their hands from brushing, because he was pretty sure if they did he would drop it.  _ His mouth just touched this. _ Quickly shoving that thought from his mind he swallowed the liquor, feeling it burn his throat on the way down and giving him an excuse to cough and look away from the raven-haired boy and his captivating smirk.

 

Keith chuckled. “You’re supposed to drink it, not inhale it.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance set the glass down and waved his remark away. “I’m gonna get you this time, Mullet.”

 

The Holts simultaneously roared in laughter. 

 

“We've been telling him it’s a mullet since he was  _ seven _ ,” Matt cried.

 

“It's _ not _ a mullet!” Keith protested.

 

“Sorry, you’re overruled,” Pidge informed him, handing her controller over to Matt.

 

The next several games got progressively more violent in positive correlation to the amount of alcohol consumed. Matt at one point got up and mimed flipping a table, since there wasn’t one, and Hunk picked up a pillow and began beating Lance over the head with it after the one game where he played as Pikachu and decimated the competition. Pidge and Keith had tears coming out of their eyes from laughter at that. At one point, Lance accidentally picked up Keith’s cup instead of his, and immediately realized his mistake when he noticed how light it was.   
  


“Woah!” he exclaimed. “You’re almost done already? And you’re  _ still _ winning fairly often?!”

 

“Sounds like you need to catch up, McClain,” Keith slurred, shooting a sneaky wink at him that pierced Lance's chest like an arrow. Keith was clearly intoxicated. His hair was massively disheveled from running his own hand through it, and the black deep-v t-shirt he wore was slightly tugged off-kilter on his shoulders, revealing way more collarbone than should have ever been legal. Lance did his best not to stare, but he was pretty sure his best was not enough. Not even close.

 

“Hmmm, fine then.” He poured himself another shot and watched Keith’s eyes defiantly as he took it, maybe  _ possibly _ letting the rim of the glass linger against his bottom lip for _ slightly  _ longer than completely necessary. “Let’s see who the real champion is.”

 

The games began getting sloppier and sloppier, with significantly more button-mashing penalties. Hunk had given up and begun drinking water an hour previous. Lance’s face was rather pink from both alcohol consumption and the fact that he and Keith had been all but pressed against each other for the last hour, sitting side-by-side on the couch and shouldering each other in the attempt to get the other to make a mistake. Matt completely lost the ability to speak at normal volumes, not that he had much to begin with. Pidge had smoked at some point so she was able to concentrate better than the others, but her focus was not frequently on anything that was actually helping her win.

 

Keith's Yoshi was damn near unstoppable. Hunk even lifted Lance's Pikachu ban to try to beat him out. When that didn't work the first time, they tried again. Lance and Keith were the last ones standing and everyone was shouting at Lance to spam Keith off the map. But Keith was just too good. He jumped behind Pikachu, ate him, and swiftly laid an egg off the edge. Again. 

 

“Keith! Quit eating me as Yoshiiii!” Lance pouted.

 

“Would you prefer I eat you as someone else?” Keith narrowed his eyes at Lance, gauging his reaction. In the back of his mind, sober Keith was  _ screaming  _ but drunk Keith shushed him. This was fun. 

 

Lance’s eyes widened and he avoided Keith's gaze rather unsuccessfully, painfully aware of how close their faces were. 

 

“Oh my GOD Keith! Don't give the man a heart attack! That was a dirty tactic!” Pidge chortled nearly falling out of her swivel chair. 

 

“Gross, get a room,” Matt threw over his shoulder from the kitchen. 

 

“You are the one with no room in this apartment,” Keith bantered, turning his attention away from Lance giving him room to breathe. “And yet you're always  _ here. _ ”

 

Lance regained what little bit of composure he could muster and poured Keith yet  _ another  _ shot. 

 

“Don't think for a second I'm going to let you live that down, Mullet.”

 

“Problem?” Keith smirked for what must have been the millionth time that night. 

 

“I think drunk Keith is a bigger flirt than sober Lance, which is honestly the most impressive thing I've seen in my entire life,” Hunk laughed. 

 

In a fleeting moment of coherence, Keith suddenly realized that he’d very blatantly just been flirting with Lance. In front of everyone.

 

“Uh… sorry… that happens a lot when I'm drunk.” He ducked away from the nervously shifting boy to his right. 

 

“Noted,” Lance smiled awkwardly.

 

After another hour or so, which included Lance demanding that Keith’s Yoshi privileges also be fully revoked, Hunk grunted and stood.

 

“Well, I should probably get Lance home before he murders Keith.” He nodded at Pidge. “Wouldn’t want you stuck with all the rent.”

 

She nodded back, her eyes unfocused. “‘Preciate you.”

 

Hunk chuckled. “C’mon, buddy, let’s go.” 

 

“Fiiine,” Lance slurred back, lifting his head from Keith’s shoulder.  _ When did that happen? _ He made a half-assed attempt to get up before allowing himself to fall back down onto the couch, his head once again resting on the shoulder of the dozing man next to him. “Nope, I’ve decided what you ask of me is far too difficult in my current state. Request denied.”

 

“Lance. Get up.” Hunk reached for Lance's hands and tugged at limp arms. 

 

“I don't wannaaa,” he whined. 

 

“Keith? Help a guy out? If you let him stay there he will.”

 

Reluctantly, Keith sighed and reached a tired hand up to push Lance’s shoulder, but found his hair instead. He mussed it. 

 

“Soffft…”

 

Hunk groaned.

 

“So helpful,” he chuckled. “Alright, please don't puke on me.”

 

Hunk slid his arms around Lance's waist and hoisted him over his shoulder.

 

“Holy crow!” Lance shouted.

 

“Time to go home. Tell everyone goodnight, Lance.”

 

“Goodnight, Lance,” he muttered into Hunk’s shoulder. 

 

“Drive safe,” Matt called as he shut the door behind them. 

Keith woke up the next morning with lots of questions.

 

After ascertaining that he was fully clothed in his own bed, and that it was 8:30am for some idiotic reason, he began running through the events of the previous night. And he was immediately hit with regret.

 

He groaned loudly, and heard a thump from the next room over and a muffled order to shut up.  _ Well that’s good, _ he mused,  _ at least I’m not the only one monstrously hungover. _ But he was definitely beginning to remember  _ why _ he was so hungover and it made him want to smother himself with his own pillow. “Why did Matt do this to me,” he mumbled.

 

He stumbled out of bed to begin his quest for coffee. During his adventure, he found the empty rum bottle.  _ Well that explains a lot _ . 

 

With coffee brewing, Keith forced himself to examine the previous evening. He remembered playing Smash, and things getting progressively warmer. But he was pretty sure that was just because of how close he and Lance had been sitting. He remembered laughing a lot, particularly at Lance’s expressions while he played. That made him smile to himself. And then…

 

Keith groaned and allowed his forehead to sink to the countertop.

 

He couldn’t believe he had gotten  _ that _ drunk. Lance would probably never talk to him again, and Pidge was certainly never going to let him live any part of the interaction down. Matt would be  _ insufferable _ . And he would definitely tell  _ Shiro _ . He would never have another peaceful moment,  _ and _ he would also never be able to show his face in public again.

 

He poured himself a cup of coffee and stumbled towards the couch, but then immediately got back up remembering who he was sitting next to only hours before. He resigned himself to pacing the kitchen and peering in the fridge for signs of food.

 

Before long, Pidge had stumbled to her desk holding a very large cup of coffee with both hands. She looked like death, but still had enough vigor to give him an evil smirk.

 

“So you had fun last night,” she drawled.

 

“Ugh,” he shook his head, “don’t start. I’m already contemplating throwing myself into traffic.”

 

“Y’know Lance texted me after he got home last night…”

 

“Oh God,” he flopped onto the couch, “do I even want to know?”

 

She whipped out her phone and cleared her throat.

 

“Noooo…” Keith interrupted before she could begin.

 

“It’s actually kind of funny,” Pidge snickered from behind her mug. “Barely coherent, but hilarious to say the least.”

 

“Ugh fine.” Keith placed his mug carefully onto the coffee table and propped his chin up on one hand. 

 

“Thank for inviting us over. Muy divertido. I think I think do again. Keith very distracting me,” she dictated. Keith’s face turned a new shade of pink. 

 

“That’s enough.” 

 

“There’s more though!” She scrolled a bit further past her own replies. “Keith is cute. He is into guys, right? Probably pregunta estupida. Olvidalo.” She chuckled to herself. “The rest is in Spanish with typos so bad Google translate can’t figure it out.” 

 

“You’re incorrigible.” Keith rose to storm out of the living room, but stopped when Pidge continued.

 

“That’s a big word for hungover Keith.” She leveled a glance up at him. “He likes you. And you really seem to like him. I haven’t seen you that flirty with anyone since…”

 

“Nope. Not having this discussion. Not now. Not ever. I’ll be inventing creative ways to drown myself in the shower if you need me.” He shuffled to the bathroom and locked the door, catching his reflection in the mirror. He definitely looked as bad as he felt. He turned the water up to scorching and stumbled into the shower hoping to scrub away his embarrassment. And the knowledge of how soft Lance’s hair was… and how pretty his blue eyes were… 

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Much to Hunk’s dismay, Lance woke up humming, as per usual. His drunken best friend had insisted upon staying the night in Hunk’s bed with him so that he could  _ gush _ over how adorable Pizza Guy Keith was. That was short-lived, of course, since Lance was so tired he could barely form words, in Spanish or English. How Lance had dodged yet another hangover, Hunk was convinced was dark druidic magic from a different plane of existence. No way  _ anyone _ could get that wasted and then wake up as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as Lance McClain. 

 

“What song are you even singing?”

 

“You don’t know it because you have bad taste in music,” Lance scoffed, tossing a pillow at Hunk’s face. “We’re gonna be late for art class if one of us doesn’t get in the shower.”

 

“So that means it’s some ukulele screamo song, and you’re about to take a 30 minute shower.” 

 

“It’s like you know me, Hunk,” Lance laughed. 

 

“Wake me up when it’s my turn,” Hunk groaned. “And don’t forget to wear a school shirt so you aren’t forced to run cymbal laps with the unfortunate freshmen whose section leaders ‘forgot’ to give them the memo.”

 

“Thanks Mom,” Lance called over his shoulder, entering the bathroom through Hunk’s door. Hunk had the master bedroom in the duplex since he’d been the one to do all the research and contact the landlords initially. Lance and Hunk shared the upstairs bathroom located between their bedrooms and Allura had her own downstairs. It made the most sense to let her keep charge of the more public restroom since her cleaning habits were the most consistent of the three of them. Allura was likely already gone to campus. She was a pre-med student and was already stressed about a barrage of tests coming up in her organic chemistry class. Listening to his roommates complain about their homework frequently made Lance both glad and embarrassed that he wanted to be an elementary school teacher. He’d always had a knack for dealing with kids, which was in no small part due to having two younger siblings, a niece, nephew, and countless little cousins to watch after back home. 

 

Lance turned on the shower and reached for his phone to stream some music while he got ready. It was then that he saw the still-open messages he’d apparently sent to Pidge in his drunken stupor last night. 

 

“Dios mio…” He rubbed his face and decided it was better to do damage control now rather than wait until he saw Pidge at rehearsal this afternoon. 

 

(08:52) So… This is awkward…

 

_ (08:53) What ever do you mean, Lance?? :D _

 

(08:53) YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN PIDGE. 

 

_ (08:54) :DDDDD _

 

(08:56) Did he say anything to you this morning? He was coming on REAL strong last night. Especially considering I was able to pick up on it despite my level of intoxication. 

 

_ (08:58) So, don’t take it personally, but he didn’t want to talk about it at all. Keith is actually kind of introverted and I don’t think he intended to give you such strong signals as he did last night. Don’t get me wrong, I think he’s really into you, but he won’t admit it to me yet, which is kind of the first step for him.  _

 

(09:00) So you’re saying I didn’t completely fuck it up.

 

_ (09:01) I don’t think so… You’re saying that you agree with me that there is something that could have been fucked up then? Just checking. As much as I love to give Keith Hell, I would hate to talk him into pursuing someone who wasn’t into him.  _

 

(09:02) Pidge, I was /this\ close to just saying fuck it and sitting in his lap on the couch last night. If that isn’t something, I don’t know what is. He’s gay, right?

 

_ (09:04) Flaming. _

 

(09:05) I’ve never actually pursued a guy before… Crushed on them all the time, but actually having a chance with someone…

 

_ (09:06) You’re psyching yourself out. Knock it off, or I’ll tell Hunk.  _

 

(09:06) DO NOT TELL HUNK. I’m sure he already knows how much I like Keith, but if you confirm it, he’ll be ordering pizza for dinner every night until something happens! 

 

(09:08) You do think something could happen, right?

 

_ (09:10) “Would you prefer I eat you as someone else?” _

 

(09:11) PIIIIIDGE

 

_ (09:11) >:) _

 

He sighed, trying to ignore the warmth spreading throughout his chest, and ran his hand absentmindedly through his hair. Briefly, he remembered that Keith had done the same thing the night before while Lance’s head was on his shoulder. Grinning to himself, he started his playlist.

 

After he was dressed, Lance went downstairs to make a quick breakfast for himself and Hunk, as apology for his drunken antics. He grabbed the eggs and started toasting bagels, and had two egg and cheese sandwiches ready by the time Hunk stumbled down the stairs. 


	4. Jungle Juice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly struggling to not give the next chapter away right now, we've been dying to finally get you guys to where the real story starts to unfold. It hasn't yet been explicitly stated, but R3d is our Lance consultant and Dunu is Keef consultant, so you'll definitely start seeing more interesting characterization coming out (haha). Resisting the urge to spoil anything, hope you like it!

Keith stared at Lance’s contact information on his phone screen for what could have been hours. He only had his one class with Pidge on Fridays, not that he remembered anything from it, and he'd spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon bench hopping around the downtown area practicing two-point perspective sketches. Even so, he still had a few hours to kill before his shift at 6:00pm. He’d gone to the art building to try to distract himself, but nothing seemed to work. Every time he dipped his paintbrush in the cobalt splotch on his pallette, his mind wandered aimlessly to thoughts of Lance and his smiling eyes. He could not believe he’d been so forward. Sure, it had been almost a year since he’d even had a sliver of a chance at dating someone, but this was insane. He’d known Lance for less than a week. He could have been misreading the entire situation the whole time!

 

The more he considered that notion the easier it was to slip his phone back into his pocket. What would he even say?  _ Hey man, sorry my drunk ass not-so-subtly suggested that we should hook up. Hope you had a good time last night, glad you made it home okay. Please forget I exist.  _ Yeah, that seemed to be the most genuine option.

 

He scowled at his still life setup, noticing that his sphere had rolled an inch away from its designated position. When he bent under the standing lamps to fix it, someone loudly barged in, startling him and causing him to curse as he banged his head sharply on one of the lamps directly above.

 

The lights flipped on. “Oh! Sorry, man, I didn’t realize anyone was in here…” the voice trailed off.

 

Keith disentangled himself from the light fixtures and found himself looking at none other than Lance McClain.

 

“Heyy…” he began awkwardly.  _ Smooth _ . “Yeah, um, we’re working on specific lighting in class, so it has to be controlled…”

 

“Cool,” Lance replied, laughing awkwardly. “I, uh, figured you took art classes or something after seeing that Pikachu you drew.”

 

Keith’s eyebrows came together at that. “What Pikachu?”

 

He noticed Lance’s ears reddened slightly. “Oh, the other day I ordered garlic knots, and jokingly put in the special instructions to draw a pokemon. I noticed that you, um, signed it.”

 

“That was you?” he chuckled incredulously, his shoulders relaxing slightly at the familiar topic. “One of the other guys asked me to draw it before I went out on a run, I didn’t even see the ticket.”

 

“Oh, well,” Lance was getting more confident as well. “It was really good! Are you in the intermediate courses?”

 

“Yeah, drawing and painting. I came here to kill some time before my shift tonight.” A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Um, did you come here for a reason, or just to chat me up?”

 

“Oh!” Lance had clearly forgotten his original purpose. “I actually left my trombone in here earlier today, I need it for rehearsal in,” he checked his phone and then turned it towards Keith, “twenty minutes! The chatting was just a bonus,” he winked, causing Keith’s heart to do somersaults.

 

As if on cue, Lance’s phone began blaring “Holding Onto You” by Twenty One Pilots and Hunk’s face appeared on screen. 

 

“Ah, that would be my lift back to the practice field.” He hurried over to the far corner of the room to grab an old-looking black case before rushing back to the door as quickly as he’d come. He stopped just long enough to turn and shoot a one-handed finger gun in Keith's direction. “Later, Mullet!”

 

Keith’s cheeks suddenly became very warm at the use of Lance’s apparent nickname for him.  _ It is not fair that someone I’ve known less than a week can have this much of an effect _ . 

 

He ran his hand through his hair and determinedly returned to his painting, significantly more distracted than he had been previously.

 

______________________________________

  
  


“It’s GAAAAAAME DAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!”

 

Pidge and Matt were bouncing around Keith’s bedroom with far more energy than should have been legal on a Saturday morning. He grunted and dragged his pillows over his head.

 

“What time is it,” his muffled voice was barely intelligible. 

 

“It’s time to go! Matt picked up McDonald’s on his way over to bribe you into driving us like you promised. We have coffee ready for you, get dressed you ho!” Pidge threw a pair of basketball shorts at him while Matt tried to confiscate the pillows. 

 

“Hngghhh,” Keith groaned when they ripped away his blankets. “You’re lucky I don’t sleep naked,” he grumbled, reluctantly sitting up and reaching for the pants that slid off the side of the bed.

 

“Yeah, yeah, insert sex joke here, let’s  _ go _ !” Pidge ran back into the other room, clearly over-caffeinated. 

 

Before long, mostly due to Matt and Pidge’s combined impatience, the three of them were in Keith’s car and headed to the stadium. Keith sleepily munched on his Egg McMuffin, squinting in the sunlight. “Remind me why I agreed to do this.” 

 

“An innocuous excuse to attempt to see Lance again?” Pidge tried.

 

Keith nearly choked. “You’re the worst.”

 

“Speaking of me being the worst,” she added slyly, “your attendance has been specifically requested at the after-party tonight.”

 

Keith snorted. “Just because you formally request my presence doesn’t mean I’m going to show up.”

 

“It wasn’t  _ me _ ,” her smile widened. “Someone else. Brown hair, blue eyes, you hardcore flirted with him on our couch the other night…”

 

Keith momentarily fantasized about running the car off the road before deciding his chances of survival were too high.

 

“Well I work, so not likely.”

 

“Oh, I already talked to Shiro about it,” Matt chimed in, not looking up from whatever game he was playing on his phone. “He agreed to let you off an hour early so you don’t miss anything.”

 

Keith could not  _ believe _ this. “I notice you waited until  _ after _ we were in the car to bring this up.”

 

“Duh,” Pidge scoffed. 

 

Once they reached the stadium lot, Keith practically shoved the two diabolical siblings out of the vehicle and then turned right around to head home for a couple more hours of sleep. Game days were terrible days to be out and about.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Lance had definitely missed game days.

 

The exhilaration, the suspense, the pure  _ energy _ breathed life into his features. He loved being surrounded by the band, loved marching on the field, and keeping the audience energized. He couldn’t wait until he was officially a part of the fraternity so that he could give back to the organization that already gave him so much.

 

The game wasn’t even close, with their home team taking the win at a score of 51-14. By the time they had gotten all the equipment put away and organized rides back to Lance’s place it was about 7:30pm, still plenty of time for him to help prep the Jungle Juice and shower before people would start showing up. He spent entirely too much time trying to pick an outfit, and ended up settling on grey jeans and a sleeveless royal blue t-shirt. 

 

Before long, the entire house was packed and people were spilling out into both sides of the yard. Jungle Juice was flowing, beer pong was in full swing in the garage, and there was no sign of Keith anywhere. Lance tried not to be too disappointed, since Pidge had promised that he would show up, but it was hard to have fun when the one person he wanted around wasn’t there. He tried to ignore the annoying voice in the back of his head saying that it didn’t make sense for him to feel that way about someone he’s known for barely a week. It was made easier by the fact that someone was currently shouting at him from across the house.

 

He systematically made his way through the sea of bodies to the kitchen table to find Hunk, Allura, and a handful of trumpet players were setting up for Circle of Death.

 

“Hey, man,” Hunk clapped him on the shoulder, “want in?”

 

Lance quirked an eyebrow. “You could tell I was spiralling from that distance?”

 

Hunk chuckled. “C’mon, sit down.”

 

After a couple rounds, there was a thunderous roar from out front. Lance, who taken a penalty shot for losing one of the rounds and already had two cups of Jungle Juice under his belt, zigzagged through the crowd to see what the ruckus was. Their neighbors were mostly other college students, which meant the likelihood of a noise complaint being called in was fairly low, but alcohol could cause problems even among friends.

 

By the time he’d gently shoved his way outside, the crowd had thinned to show Keith, wearing a navy v-neck and grey knit cap, laughing and holding a couple pizzas over his head out of reach of the mob. Lance’s eyes were immediately drawn to the slip of bare midriff showing off an unreasonable portion of Keith’s abs.  _ Lickable abs _ . Lance shook his head to clear it and sauntered over.

 

“Hello, Pizza Guy Keith,” he drawled when he was close enough. “What’dja bring me?”

 

Keith’s eyes swiveled in his direction, widening slightly when they found Lance’s own. Lance saw them move up and down once quickly before he lowered his arms and walked over to where Lance was standing. 

 

“Hey,” he said, rather breathlessly. “Shiro sent over a bunch of ‘mistake’ pizzas, but I’m pretty sure he did it on purpose after he heard the winning score.” He offered the remaining two to Lance. “This was all I could save from your friends here.”

 

Lance smiled, enjoying Keith’s slight blush as he did so, and purposefully brushed Keith’s hands as he relieved him of his burden. “My hero. What do you mean Shiro sent them, I thought he was working tonight?” he asked as they moved towards the door. 

 

“Ah, um,”  _ Why was he blushing so much?  _ “Shiro is one of the managers at the pizza place I work at…” he trailed off significantly.

 

“Wait, wait,” Lance couldn't help the laughter bubbling up in his chest as he made the connection. “Are you telling me that  _ Shiro  _ sent you to my house per the special instructions??”

 

Keith ducked his head, pretending to adjust his cap. “Possibly.”

 

Lance shook his head, still smiling. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

 

Lance deposited the pizzas in the kitchen, where they were immediately swarmed by band members, and filled Keith a solo cup from the bin in the fridge. Keith looked at it apprehensively.

 

“I don’t think alcohol supposed to be this muddy color?”

 

“It’s Jungle Juice,” Lance laughed. “It’s a bunch of fruit and fruit juices mixed with Everclear. It tastes better than it looks, scout’s honor.”

 

Keith took a tentative sip before awarding Lance a look of surprise. “It  _ is _ good!”

 

Lance pretended to look hurt, hand over his heart. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

 

“Well,” Keith looked away, his blush returning with a vengeance. “I  _ do _ barely know you. How do I know you aren’t just trying to get me drunk?”

 

“Oh, that’s  _ exactly _ what I’m doing,” he quipped, taking a sip from his own cup, eyes never leaving Keith’s. 

 

“Keith!”

 

Pidge was somehow above the crowd, slowly moving towards the kitchen. It wasn’t until she got closer that they realized she was riding on Hunk’s shoulders. “We’re up for beer pong, let’s GO lovebirds!”

 

Lance was really enjoying how easy it was to make Keith blush. “C’mon,” he chortled, gently steering him by the shoulders towards the garage, and very aware of the way Keith felt under his hand.

 

Pidge and Hunk had already begun setting up on one side of the table, both of them pretending to be very involved with lining up the cups just right. Lance shook his head at their antics, but Keith looked like steam was about to come out of his ears, so Lance took pity and decided to ease up a bit. 

 

“You better be half as good at beer pong as you are at Smash, Mullet.”

 

Keith took a big gulp from his cup before turning a blinding smile on him. “Is this you admitting that I’m better than you at Smash?” he asked sweetly.

 

“Pfft,” Lance scoffed with a wink, unable to help himself. “Not even.”

 

Keith took another couple sips from his cup, not breaking eye contact. “Yeah, okay.” He turned his attention to their opponents. “You two jokers ready to lose?”

 

The game began, and they were pretty evenly matched. Keith wasn’t anything special at first, but the longer the game went on, the better he got. They beat Pidge and Hunk pretty easily, which was more a testament to how much alcohol Pidge had consumed than anything else. They lost the next game though, because Matt was an absolute monster at beer pong and had a reputation for holding the table for entire parties. The pair made their way back to the kitchen to refill their cups.

 

“That was pretty impressive, Mullet. I’m starting to learn that alcohol just makes you stronger when it comes to competitions.”

 

“That was a pretty backhanded compliment, considering I carried us through that game,” Keith retorted, taking another pull from his cup. He could feel his head spinning, and he was reasonably sure it wasn’t just how much alcohol he’d had.

 

“Ha!” Lance exclaimed. “I took way more winning shots than you did!  _ And _ I've had more Juice than you.” 

 

“They say denial is the first stage…”

 

“Oh, shut up, pretty boy.” 

 

Keith’s eyebrows shot up at that, his mouth settling in the most adorable smirk Lance had ever seen. “So you think I’m pretty?”

 

Lance looked at him from over the rim of his own cup, lip resting on the edge, eyes sparkling. “Maybe.”

 

At that moment, someone began blaring an air horn.

 

“Attention party-goers!” Matt shouted from the top of the stairs. “It is now eleven thirty! Know what that means?!”

 

The entire mob shouted back in unison. “NO-PANTS HALF HOUR!!!”

 

“What.” Keith said flatly.

 

Lance just giggled. “You heard them.” He had already begun stripping his own pants off, to Keith’s utter embarrassment. 

 

“Why is this a thing?” he demanded weakly.

 

“Dunno,” Lance shrugged back, tossing his pants into the corner of the kitchen. “Always has been. No one really questions it, so my thought is that you’re too sober. Shot?”

 

Keith took another large gulp of Jungle Juice and nodded, avoiding Lance’s eyes. Lance rinsed out one of the shot glasses nearby and filled it with amber liquid. When he turned back around, Keith was in his boxer-briefs and refilling his cup.

 

“Didn't you  _ just _ refill?” he demanded incredulously.

 

“Still have to catch up to you, apparently, in order to prove my superior skills are legit,” he sauntered back over to where Lance stood, leaning casually against the counter maybe a smidge closer to Lance than was strictly necessary.

 

Lance grinned, and offered him the glass.

 

“What is it?” he sniffed at it hesitantly.

 

“Tequila,” Lance’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Y’know, since your clothes are already falling off.”

 

Keith’s face, already flushed from alcohol and how warm the crowded duplex was, turned an even deeper shade, and Lance noticed Keith’s eyes darted towards his mouth for a split second before he hurriedly took the shot.

 

It was at that very moment that Lance realized they were alone in a dark corner of the kitchen and absolutely no one was paying attention to them.

 

So he casually took one step closer to Keith, effectively closing the distance between them and let his hands rest on the counter on either side of him. Their faces were mere inches away from each other. 

 

“Is this okay?” Lance breathed, suddenly worried he’d been too forward.

 

Keith appeared to be holding his breath, but he didn’t answer. He did however, cover Lance’s hands with his own, and that was all the encouragement Lance required. He slowly leaned in, allowing their lips to softly brush one another.

 

The effect was instantaneous. Keith’s hands slid up his arms to lock around the back of Lance’s neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Lance responded enthusiastically, arms wrapping around Keith’s waist until they were pressed completely against one another. Keith sighed into him, mouth gently opening, and Lance eagerly accepted the invitation. He slipped one hand up the back of Keith’s shirt, enjoying the feel of his muscles beneath his hands.

 

The two were broken out of their quickly escalating moment by someone wolf-whistling in their general direction. Of course it was Matt. They glared at him in unison, arms still wrapped around each other.

 

“GET A ROOM!” he shouted characteristically.

 

“Read my mind,” Lance responded under his breath. “I do have one here…” He gently disengaged from Keith’s embrace, grabbed his drink and Keith’s hand, and began heading for the stairs. When they reached his room he took both of their drinks and set them on the bedside table.

 

“Should be a little quieter up here - ” he began before Keith had gently grabbed his shoulders and turned him in order to resume kissing him. Abandoning his initial attempt to flip the light switch on as they entered the room, Lance allowed himself to be guided backwards and sank slowly onto the bed, pulling Keith with him into his lap so Keith’s torso was fully pressed against his own and he straddled Lance’s legs. Using his newfound leverage, he allowed his hands to explore more of Keith’s back and shoulders, savoring the soft skin under his fingertips. Keith pulled his mouth away briefly, only to immediately place his lips in the crook of Lance’s neck, causing him to inhale sharply before melting under his embrace, laying back onto the bed. Suddenly, the weight of Keith’s body was gone. When Lance sat up, he saw Keith quickly struggling out of his shirt, and he was unable to stop himself from openly staring. Keith smirked at him before crawling back over next to where he was laying and slipping a hand up the front of Lance’s shirt, gently pushing him back so they were lying side by side. Lance tugged his own shirt over his head just in time for Keith to snake one arm over his waist and pull him close for another kiss, their legs tangled together, enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies.

 

A well-placed nip at Lance’s collarbone had him arching into Keith’s touch and stifling a groan. Keith chuckled. 

 

“You’re sensitive,” he observed, looking up at Lance’s face. Lance took the moment to catch his breath. “Are you ticklish?”

 

“ _ WHY  _ would I arm you with intel like that?” Lance laughed breathlessly. 

 

“Mostly I was trying to make sure I didn’t tickle you accidentally. Unless you wanted me to, that is.”

 

“Oh. That’s actually really sweet of you,” Lance blushed. “Um, I’m crazy ticklish over my ribs and above my knees. Most other places are fair game.”

 

“Noted,” Keith nodded, placing a hand gently on Lance’s hip. “I’m not super ticklish at all. So, yeah, go nuts, if you want…”

 

“Huh?”

 

Keith smirked. 

 

“I noticed you were keeping your hands pretty much in the same place.”

 

In fact, Lance’s hands were even still splayed over Keith’s shoulders. 

 

“You okay? We don’t have to do this,” Keith offered, gesturing between them.

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine… I’ve just never made out with a guy before, I guess. It’s not different, really, but it’s kind of totally different.” Lance winced at what he was sure would be a complete turn off to Keith, but the dark-haired man just tilted his head in interest. 

 

“So you’re bi, then?”

 

“Quite,” Lance breathed, relieved that Keith didn’t immediately get up and put his shirt back on. 

 

“I assume you’re out, then, considering our make-out session against your kitchen counter in front of half the marching band.” Keith’s hand remained at Lance’s hip, drawing distracted patterns over the waistband of his boxers. 

 

“To my friends,” Lance nodded. “My family is, uh… Catholic. So none of them know. Well, my big sister Veronica probably suspects it, but she’d never press it in conversation unless I brought it up. What about you?”

 

_ Well that backfired _ , Keith thought to himself. He didn’t especially want to talk about his own family, so he quickly deflected. 

 

“I didn’t really have to tell anyone, as annoying as that was when it happened. Matt and Pidge apparently knew the whole time we were growing up together. And I awkwardly bumped into Shiro at a drag show while he was on a date with his boyfriend at the time like three days after I started working at the pizza shop, so I also didn’t explicitly have to come out to him either.” 

 

Lance shook the bed in silent laughter at that. 

 

“Yeah, Shiro struck me as definitely-not-straight at our interview the other day.” 

 

“He’ll be proud to know,” Keith chuckled. He chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip and glanced down at his own hand at Lance’s hip. “I’m not great at this, but… I  _ really _ like you, Lance. And that’s not the Jungle Juice talking, though it’s definitely part of the reason I didn’t just mutter that under my breath and run away.” Keith kept his eyes downcast.

 

Lance brought a hand up to lift Keith’s chin.

 

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but,’ hiding somewhere in there?” Lance searched Keith’s face nervously. 

 

“I feel like I need to warn you, I guess. I’m bad at this. Like really bad. I don’t handle emotions well, and I don’t always realize when things I say or do  _ actually  _ hurt people’s feelings. I’m kind of a sarcastic asshole,” Keith admitted, causing Lance to let out a small chuckle.. “And sometimes I need a lot of space, often with little warning. I just don’t want to hurt you.”  _ Or get hurt by you _ , his mind unhelpfully supplied.

 

“Keith, no offense, but I  _ think _ I can handle it. I’m willing to try, at least. Whatever this is. With you.”

 

That pulled a smile back to Keith’s face. 

 

“What  _ is this _ , exactly?” Keith asked, squeezing Lance’s hip gently for emphasis. 

 

“Specifically, this is us drunk making out half-naked in my bed, which I am  _ all  _ for continuing. Generally speaking, I think this is us getting to know each other past the obvious physical attraction between us.” Lance brushed Keith’s hair lightly out of his face and scooted closer to him on the bed. “And _ this _ is me asking you to stay here with me tonight so I can knock your socks off with breakfast in the morning.”

 

“Deal,” Keith nodded. 

 

“Wait, really?!” Lance grinned. 

 

“How can I say no to free breakfast?”

 

“I'm pretty sure there are rules somewhere saying you can't, sooo…”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, unable to keep the grin from his face as he pulled Lance’s mouth back to his. They broke apart after a few moments, but Keith's eyes were still closed as he bit his lower lip, which Lance found incredibly distracting. 

 

“Yeah, I could definitely get used to this.”

 

He felt Lance lift his hand from its place on Keith's shoulder and gently lay it in the middle of his chest. 

 

“Yeah,” he whispered back. “Me too.”


	5. Cafe con Leche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hai friends, we're starting to get into some anxious content. Nothing too big here, just some brief intrusive thoughts, so please be aware. We're so happy you folks are loving this story!

When Lance came to the next morning, grey sunlight filtered softly through the blinds in his room. It took him a moment to get his bearings as he sat up in bed and realized he was alone. He only had a few moments to be disappointed before he heard the sink running in the bathroom and the door to his room opened quietly as Keith snuck back in from the hallway, clad only in his boxer briefs and Lance’s shirt.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was trying not to wake you. I figured you’d want to sleep in since there was a game yesterday.” Keith returned to his spot on the bed, shuffling under the covers and snuggling back into Lance’s side. Lance relaxed back into his pillow and curled his arm tentatively around Keith’s shoulders. 

“You didn’t,” Lance assured. “But you are wearing my shirt.” 

Keith blushed and covered his face in the comforter. 

“It was the first one I picked up and I was already half into it when I realized…”

“I think you might look cuter in it than I do,” Lance chuckled, taking the opportunity to make Keith squirm a little bit. 

“Unlikely,” Keith countered with a scoff. He smiled sleepily up at Lance. “Morning.”

“G’morning. I’m glad you stayed,” Lance admitted in a rush. “For a second I thought you’d left.”

“One, don’t think I forgot about breakfast. And two, if I had attempted to sneak out, you would have definitely known about it. There are, like, twelve people passed out in your living room, three of whom would murder me if they thought I was trying to leave abruptly after having spent all night in your room.” Keith became a bit embarrassed at that. 

“Who? Pidge, Hunk, and Matt? Besides Matt, I bet they didn’t even notice…”

“Check your phone.”

Lance rolled over and snatched the device he’d miraculously remembered to charge off his night stand, careful not to knock over his and Keith’s abandoned red cups from last night. He groaned as 41 messages lit up on his screen, all from a group chat that included a few numbers he didn’t have saved. 

\---

(00:02) Matt Holt added you, Unsaved Contact, and Pidge Holt to a group conversation. To leave the group, text OPT OUT.

(00:02) Matt Holt: LANCE TOOK KEITH TO HIS ROOM. THEY’RE GONNA BANG.

(00:03) Pidge Holt: Holy shit. Add Shiro to this.

(00:03) Matt Holt added Unsaved Contact (2) to group chat. 

(00:03) Pidge Holt added Hunk Garrett to group chat.

(00:04) Unsaved Contact (2): Matt, what is this. 

(00:04) Matt Holt: YOUR CUTEST PIZZA DELIVERY BOY IS FRATERNIZING WITH THE CUSTOMERS. 

(00:07) Unsaved Contact (2): Holy shit. It worked?

(00:08) Hunk Garrett added Allura Alfor to group chat.

(00:08) Pidge Holt: Hunk who are you adding?

(00:09) Hunk Garrett: Allura. Lance’s room is directly above hers. She deserves to know that he’s BANGING THE CUTE PIZZA DELIVERY KEITH. 

(00:10) Pidge Holt: Oh, good call. Allura this is Pidge. I’m saving your number.

(00:10) Allura Alfor: EXCUSE ME LANCE WHAT?

(00:11) Matt Holt: Is apparently getting it in ten feet above your bed. Ew. 

(00:13) Unsaved Contact (2): Matt, that’s unnecessary. They could just be talking. I am under no delusion that you haven’t commandeered the sound system to play that SHOTS song so loud I could probably hear it if I walked outside.

(00:14) Matt Holt: THEY’VE BEEN GONE FOR HALF AN HOUR. 

(00:14) Pidge Holt: AND YOU WAITED UNTIL NOW TO TELL US?!?!

(00:15) Matt Holt: Oh wait, no it’s 45 MINUTES NOW. 

(00:17) Unsaved Contact: Guys chill the fuck out. Lance and I were just talking. He’s actually half asleep, for your information. 

(00:17) Pidge Holt: “““talking”””

(00:18) Unsaved Contact (2): Allegedly.

(00:19) Matt Holt: Yeah, sure. After you ol;wkea;isda;igdshfa;d

(00:19) Pidge Holt: You’re welcome. Please no explicit details. 

(00:20) Unsaved Contact: THERE ARE NO EXPLICIT DETAILS TO SHARE. 

(00:23) Allura Alfor: This is unbelievable. For the record, Keith, it was my idea to ask for the cute delivery person. You’re welcome. ;)

(00:24) Hunk Garrett: Also let the record show, Keith, that you better not sleep with Lance, stay the night, and then sneak out before Lance wakes up. On principle of the Best Friend code, I would then have to murder you. 

(00:25) Unsaved Contact: I DID NOT SLEEP WITH LANCE. Well, I mean he’s sleeping now, but we didn’t do anything. 

(00:28) Pidge Holt: Then why are your pants by the dishwasher??? 

(00:28) Matt Holt: ANSWER THE QUESTION.

(00:30) Hunk Garrett: Lance’s are here too…

(00:31) Allura Alfor: That’s rather incriminating, Keith. 

(00:32) Matt Holt: AND DON’T PRETEND LIKE YOU DON’T KNOW I SAW YOU GETTING HANDSY IN THE KITCHEN. THERE WERE NO PANTS. AND NO SPACE WAS LEFT FOR JESUS. 

(00:32) Unsaved Contact: Oh my God Matt why are you like this. 

(00:35) Unsaved Contact (2): C’mon guys, I have to work on these revisions.

(00:36) Pidge Holt: Keith is getting LAID for the first time in MONTHS and you’re REVISING YOUR THESIS? PRIORITIES SHIRO.

(00:37) Unsaved Contact: Pidge, why the fuck does it matter to you anyway!?

(00:41) Pidge Holt: Boy, do not pretend you haven’t been the grumpiest bump on a log all summer. And I can’t convince you to just smoke a fucking blunt to save my life, so really, this is the best thing. 

(00:41) Unsaved Contact: Fuck you, Pidge. 

(00:41) Matt Holt: NO, FUCK LANCE ;)

(00:42) Unsaved Contact: OH MY GOD STAHP

(00:45) Pidge Holt: Alright, guys, I think he’s had enough. But know that we are 100% talking about this tomorrow, Keith Ho-gane. 

\------

Lance wasn’t sure whether he should laugh at the complete ridiculousness of the whole thing, or cry of embarrassment. He decided quickly on the former.

“Keith Ho-gane?” he sputtered. 

“Go ahead, laugh it up, Lance. Because you still have to cook me breakfast. And Pidge and Matt can’t leave until I do.” 

“Well if I’m gonna cook for that many people, I guess I should get up,” Lance sighed. 

“Guess so,” Keith agreed, cuddling closer to Lance and throwing an arm over his chest. 

“Keith?”

“Mmm?”

“You’re not letting me up, are you?”

“We can wait until more people are gone. It’s Sunday. It is acceptable to have breakfast at any time on Sunday,” Keith grumbled. 

“Your logic is infallible,” Lance laughed. “So you’re saying you don’t have anything to do today?”

“Nothing urgent. I was maybe gonna go to the art building, but I may have found someplace better to be.”

Lance chuckled and experimentally ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, massaging gently as he lifted bangs out of Keith’s face. Keith scoffed. 

“What’s so funny?” Lance inquired. 

“Is that my Pikachu?”

“Huh?”

Lance glanced over in the direction of Keith’s gesture where he knew he had pinned the box top of the garlic knots from the other day onto his wall. 

“I… Uh… Yeah… That’s your Pikachu…” Lance stuttered in defeat. Keith chuckled below him. 

“You’re cute.”

“I couldn’t just throw him away Keith! Look at it! You spent maybe ten minutes on it and didn’t even know it was for me and it turned out so good!”

“I’m really glad you like it, actually,” Keith mumbled, looking up at Lance. “Like, people tell me that my stuff is good all the time, but I know it’s genuine coming from you.”

“What do you mean by that?” Lance craned his neck to look at Keith in the face to make doubly sure he wasn’t joking. 

“You just do this thing, when you talk about stuff you like, where your face lights up and you talk really fast, and I know that you’re actually so excited about it that you just can’t contain yourself… Like you just did now.” He nuzzled deeper into Lance's shoulder, a move Lance was beginning to recognize as a way to hide the flush across his cheeks. “S'cute.”

Lance’s heart jumped at Keith’s admission, which was painfully embarrassing since Keith’s ear was literally right next to it at this point. Just as he was thinking that perhaps Keith didn’t notice, Keith looked up at him and smirked. 

“Sorry, did I make you nervous?” He quirked a brow in challenge.

Before Lance's brain could talk him out of it, he grabbed the hand Keith had left near his shoulder and pushed it across Keith's body so that his momentum carried him to where he was laying bodily atop the other man. He was happy to note he had taken Keith completely by surprise, so he pressed his advantage, planting a single kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“Nope!” he responded cheerfully. 

It became very apparent very quickly that of the two of them, Lance was not the stronger. Keith's smile widened as he quickly twisted his legs and threw his hips to one side, dislodging Lance's tenuous position, while catching Lance's wrists in his hands so that when he was done, he was straddling Lance's torso and pinning his hands above his head to the bed. 

But before his weight could settle, Lance twisted in his grip, in a way that Keith was certain he’d dislocated a shoulder, freeing his hands and practically slithering out from under him. Keith made another attempt to get a good grip, going for the shoulders this time and wrapping his legs around the other man to prevent him from acquiring leverage. He was almost there, but in a desperate attempt at freedom, Lance deliberately threw himself off the bed, taking Keith crashing to the floor with him. They were laughing loudly now, as Keith tried to disentangle himself again, when they heard several elephants running up the stairs. 

“Shit,” Keith cursed, moving his eyes to the door. Lance seized the opportunity while Keith was distracted to tackle him. 

Matt threw the door open and Hunk, Allura, and Pidge all crowded behind him. 

“You are having sex!” he proclaimed into the small bedroom. 

“Shit, Keith, you should’ve told me. I would’ve stopped giving you this incredibly unsexy noogie if I had known.” For emphasis, Lance ruffled Keith’s hair with his unoccupied hand as he held Keith in a headlock, his legs tangled around Keith’s waist to keep him pinned next to him on the floor. Keith pouted up at the four of them.

“Really, guys? And what if we had been? Did you even think that through?”

“To be fair, I was pretty certain you weren’t. There wasn’t nearly enough Spanish swearing.”

“HUNK!” all five of them shouted as Hunk chuckled to himself and walked away from the stunned group of them. 

“Keith, isn’t that Lance’s shirt?” Allura giggled from the back.

Lance could feel the heat radiating off of the man in his arms. He chuckled good-naturedly and relaxed his grip, gently pressing his lips to the back of Keith's neck. 

“Gross, PDA,” Matt complained. “And put some freaking clothes on!” The rest snickered as they all relieved the doorway of their presence and headed back downstairs. 

“I win this round,” he murmured so the others couldn't hear. 

Keith scoffed indignantly as he got to his feet. “Only because you cheated!”

“It’s not cheating to attack when your opponent lets their guard down. It’s strategic.”

“I was referring to the part where you threw yourself off the bed!” Keith laughed. 

“Sacrifices had to be made. It’s a good thing you had my shirt on to protect you from carpet burn,” Lance winked and fired a finger gun, tossing Keith a spare pair of athletic shorts to don.

Keith’s heart did a backflip. He didn't think he was ever going to get used to that. 

“Was your shoulder one of those sacrifices too? How did you bend like that?”

“What can I say? I’m flexible.” Lance grinned proudly at the stunned look on Keith’s face, while he too stepped into a pair of basketball shorts. 

“C’mon you Goddamn contortionist, you still have a breakfast to cook for me.”

“Pole dancer, actually.”

Keith stopped in his tracks and turned to look questioningly at Lance. 

“Allura and I do pole fitness at this studio just a few minutes north of here. That’s, uh, why I’m so flexible…” Lance scratched the back of his head. “Is that okay?”

Keith's imagination immediately surged into overdrive. “M-more than okay,” he choked out. “Uh, how long have you been doing that?”

Lance was looking on the floor for something. “I dunno, maybe six months? Aha!” he stood triumphantly, holding a blue piece of fabric over his head before turning it right-side out and putting it on. “Now I have your shirt,” he gloated. Keith’s eyes widened. Lance’s shoulders were not quite as filled out as Keith’s were, so his shirt hung loosely on Lance’s lean frame, making the “deep-v” much, much deeper. Keith absently pondered his own mortality and whether or not he recalled sudden cardiac arrest as something that ran in the limited medical history he had on his family as Lance took him by the hand and led him down the stairs. He was relieved to find that the extra hungover band kids had finally re-animated and found their ways back to their own abodes. 

“Ohmygod Lance, please tell me you brought back a loaf of Abuela’s Cuban Bread,” Hunk pleaded from the dining room table. Matt, Pidge, and Allura lounged casually in their own seats, carefully stacking empty cups and beer cans away from where they were clearly hoping their plates would go. 

“Luckily for you, she had an extra loaf baked that she let me have when I went to pick up my starter. Which reminds me, Allura, I’m gonna need you to feed it for me Friday. Hunk and I will be gone on the away game trip,” Lance smiled. 

Keith narrowed his eyes. 

“Feed it?”

“Yeah,” Lance explained, “It’s like Sourdough. You have to essentially keep a yeast garden in the house to be able to bake Cuban bread the way mi abuelita does it. She keeps hers on the counter at room temperature and feeds it water and flour every twelve hours so that she can just throw a few loaves in the oven to either feed the family or take to the farmer’s market. That’s ridiculously impractical for me, so I keep mine in the fridge and feed it once a week. It’s a process.”

“And can be quite smelly,” Allura added. Lance nodded, but shrugged. 

“Everyone want ham and cheese in their eggs?”

They were all in favor of that. Keith watched with interest as Lance preheated the oven, sliced thick pieces of a loaf of bread that looked a bit like a French baguette, drizzled butter he’d melted in the microwave over each piece, and lined them up on a cookie sheet. He also pulled out the largest skillet Keith had ever seen and placed it on a burner to warm up while he cracked basically an entire carton of eggs into a mixing bowl. From there, Lance fried two of the world’s largest ham and cheese omelettes, pulled the bread, now toast, out of the oven, and cut slices of omelette to place on top of each slice of bread. 

“Keith, do you think you could cut up the pineapple in the fridge while I scald some milk over here?”

“I can try,” Keith agreed, grabbing said pineapple and placing it on the counter. Lance handed him a large knife, barely looking up from his task at the stove. As Keith sized up the pineapple, he suddenly realized how terribly strange a shape a pineapple was, and that he had never had to cut one up before. Like, do you skin it first?

After studying his adversary, he concluded he had never seen pineapple served with any part that was currently visible. He began by making flat cuts on the top and bottom, afterwards setting it upright and investigating again. Then he slowly began to shave small strips off of the sides, here and there inadvertently taking off too much or not enough, but when he was done there was still a good amount left to work with.

Now he had this weird yellow fruit to work with. Does it have a core? It's a pine-apple… now that the ‘pines’ are gone do I just cut it like an apple? He decided that seemed reasonable, so he cut the fruit into eighths, but then he was left with giant wedges. Well these are too fucking big...

“Uhh, Keith… whatcha doin’ there buddy? ” Hunk chortled, startling Keith as he snuck up behind him.

Keith surveyed what could only be described as a crime scene in front of him. Bits of fruit waste littered the cutting board, countertop, and floor, and juice covered every surface. He turned and put on his most reasonable expression. “It looked at me funny.”

Hunk started cracking up, causing Lance to glance over to see the carnage. He looked from the decimated fruit to Keith and then burst out laughing too. 

Hunk held out his hand. “Here,” he chuckled, “I can finish up.”

Keith gladly handed over the Chef’s knife and took a seat at the table next to Allura, who was poorly hiding her amusement. 

“Don’t feel bad. I can’t do anything in that kitchen without offending our resident culinary experts either. I’ve found it’s easiest, and most delicious, to just buy them ingredients and stay out of their way.”

Keith peered into the kitchen from his seat at the table to try to figure out what on earth the contraption on the stovetop was and what it had to do with scalded milk. 

“Cafe con leche,” Pidge explained, noting Keith’s confused look. “That’s a stovetop espresso maker. If you value tracking your macros, don’t ask how much sugar gets caramelized into it. You just don’t want to know.”

“I’m not sure whether to be excited or terrified.”

“Definitely both,” Matt smiled, stretching his long arms over the back of his chair. 

Making cafe con leche for that many people was a process, but Lance had it down to a science. Hunk finished serving the toast and pineapple just as Lance rounded the corner with a tray of steaming mismatched mugs. 

“¡Desayuno esta servido!” Lance smiled as he set the tray precariously atop a fleet of empty beer cans and took the empty chair next to Keith. Keith took a tentative bite out of the heavenly smelling toast-omelettes, and it nearly knocked him out of his chair. By the time he’d finished his pineapple cubes a la Hunk, his cafe con leche had cooled to a drinkable temperature. It wasn’t until he took a sip that he realized the room had fallen comfortably silent as everyone stuffed their faces. It was almost an out of body experience. Sure, he’d had quiet, content mornings drinking coffee with Pidge and not-so-quiet, mostly content lunch dates with Matt and Shiro, but this… Sitting at a beat up, hand-me-down dining table, stacked to the stratosphere with Natty cans and sticky shot glasses, eating the best breakfast food he is certain he’s ever had in complete silence with Lance and his merry band of, well, band kids… This was what he could only imagine home must feel like. 

The thought was a sobering one. He slowly sipped his beverage, wondering what it might have been like to have always had this sort of atmosphere at mealtimes. A memory came unbidden to the forefront of his mind of him sneaking his meager boxed lunch into the far corner of the library so that he didn't have to face the humiliation of sitting alone, followed quickly by recollections of non-existent breakfasts and dinners taken in isolation. Keith was suddenly acutely aware of the possibility that maybe he didn't belong here among these people who were clearly never tortured by such musings.

Okay enough of that, Keith chided himself. He noticed that a few of the others had empty plates, so he stood and wordlessly began gathering the dishes while the light conversation began to gather momentum. He found a sponge and dish soap and began running warm water. After a minute or two Lance appeared, leaning on the countertop next to him so their elbows brushed each other. 

“You don't have to do that, you know.”

Keith looked at him out of the corner of his eye, struck once again by the sheer beauty of the man standing next to him. He smiled, enjoying the way Lance's hair stood up in every direction and returned his attention to the dishes. 

“You cooked, so I figured I would pitch in. Speaking of, consider my socks officially knocked off.”

Lance perked up at that. “You liked it?”

“Best breakfast I've ever had,” he confirmed. “I'm gonna have to find a way to coerce you into making more of that cafe con leche for me sometime.”

Lance lightly bumped him with a hip. “I don't think you'll find that too difficult.”

Keith's ears turned pink. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith could see the flush creeping up Lance's neck. “I had a lot of fun with you.”

“Me too,” Keith replied softly. “Um, I've got a couple things to take care of at home today, but if you want maybe we could grab dinner later? There's a really great sushi place that just opened up over on the west end. I mean, if you even like sushi… do you like sushi?”

“Relax,” he chuckled, “I like sushi. That sounds awesome.” He ducked his head. “I also like you. A lot.”

“Okay stop with the sweet stuff, my teeth are gonna fall out,” Matt teased as he fished in the cabinet behind them for a clean cup. “Don't forget to come take your membership quiz first, Little Bro. Macking on your new boy toy isn't a valid excuse for an absence in the Chapter Constitution the last time I checked.” 

“R-right,” Lance grinned cheekily. “That's at four… so, six?”

“Sounds great,” Keith nodded with a shy smile at the floor.

“Yay! It's a date then!” Lance fist pumped. “Wait, it is a date, right?”

Keith rolled his eyes affectionately. “Yes, Lance, it's a date.”


	6. Sushi for Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:   
> TW for more in-depth conversation about anxiety. 
> 
> Full disclosure: in future chapters there may be mild descriptions of sexual acts, because, as is evidenced in this chapter, our boys are having a difficult time keeping their hands to themselves. We plan to keep descriptions vague, and don't think we'll need to increase the rating unless y'all think it's necessary, so let us know if you think we should! You aren't gonna hurt our feelings. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 6: Sushi for Two**

 

Keith and the Holts got back to the apartment around noon, gratefully retreating into the relative darkness provided by blackout curtains. As he expected, the peace they afforded was shattered as soon as Keith closed the door. 

 

“Details! Now!”

 

Pidge and Matt were perched expectantly on the edge of the couch. 

 

He made an exasperated noise. “I told you, nothing happened!”

 

“Well you're still wearing his clothes and clearly didn't even notice, so I call bullshit,” Pidge stated matter-of-factly. “ _ Something _ happened, regardless of whether or not you had sex.”

 

Keith looked down at himself before letting out a defeated sigh.

 

“Not to mention whatever the hell we walked in on this morning…” Matt trailed off suggestively.

 

A flush began creeping up his neck. “That was - !”

 

“AND,” Pidge cut him off, “according to the timeline, you two disappeared at the  _ height _ of the party, directly after a hardcore romantic makeout session in the kitchen,” she finished smugly.

 

“Hunnngghhh,” he groaned, slumping over the kitchen counter. “That was completely a coincidence!”

 

“Likely story,” she snarked back.

 

“And you still haven't explained why Lance was ‘half asleep’ only forty-five minutes after he had all but pinned you to the kitchen counter!” Matt pointed an accusatory finger at Keith. “You must've done  _ something _ to wear him out, because he was  _ wide awake _ the last time I saw him!”

 

Keith huffed and covered his face with one hand. 

 

“We made out, okay? Mostly we just talked. That's when he asked me to sleep over. We still don't even know that much about each other. I don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of this… it probably won't go anywhere anyway…” He rested his chin on his hands, looking anywhere but at the brainiacs who were probably running statistical scenarios involving his love life as they spoke.

 

“Are you kidding Keith?” Matt's voice was softer. “Dude, Lance is so into you he invited you to sleep in his bed with him, apparently without wanting sex out of the deal, and then cooked you breakfast the next morning.”

 

“He also agreed to go on a date with you within twenty-four hours of said allegedly celibate sleepover. Why do you think he wouldn't want to date you?”

 

“Do we really have to do this right now?” Keith peeked up at them, an unspoken sadness tinging his features.

 

“I think it's overdue,” Matt remarked, all humor removed from his voice. “But I'm not gonna make you.”

 

“I… I can't. I don't want to.”

 

Matt and Pidge both nodded and Keith relaxed.

 

“So… what  _ were _ you and Lance doing this morning?” Pidge asked after a moment.

 

____________________________________

 

“Wrestling? Why am I not surprised,” Hunk laughed. Lance lay between Hunk and Allura in Allura's bed, his friends reclining back against the headboard as he confided in them.

 

“You should've seen the look on his face when I rolled us off the bed,” Lance chuckled. 

 

“You should've seen the look on  _ Matt’s  _ face when that happened,” Allura giggled. “So what about last night then?”

 

“We didn't have sex, if that's what you're asking,” Lance answered. “There was a lot of kissing, swapped coming out stories…”

 

“Gay,” Allura interjected. Lance half-heartedly attempted to shove her off the bed.

 

“Can it,  _ pan _ -da. But yeah, we sort of talked a little about what we wanted out of this… thing… that's going on between us.”

 

“Which is…” Hunk prompted. 

 

“I guess just to see where it goes. I mean I want to go pretty much anywhere he does, so it's kind of up to him.”

 

Hunk and Allura shared a brief glance at each other before Hunk started again. 

 

“I'm really glad you like Keith, and that he seems to like you too, but maybe you should slow down a little bit. You've only actually really known the guy since last Monday.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… I know… I just can't help it though.” Lance smothered his face in his hands. “He's just so  _ interesting _ . And I feel so comfortable around him! Well, once we got over the fact that neither of us are ever going to get through a conversation without blushing, which is stupid and cliche but I don't even care! He plays guitar, and is this phenomenal artist, and he wears those adorable knit caps, and has this hot as shit hipster bad-boy aesthetic, but he's really just a total dork! And I just want to know everything about him.” He looked up at the two of them from between his splayed fingers. “Is that so bad?”

 

“No, I don't think that's bad,” Allura smiled down at him.

 

“Just maybe let him know that if he breaks your heart I might break his face.”

 

“Whatever Hunk, you're the biggest teddy bear I've ever known. You wouldn't punch an actual punching bag.” Lance giggled.

 

“Well then tell him I'll pay Pidge and Matt to hide Legos around his bedroom floor.”

 

Allura and Lance both snorted at that.

 

“That might be the most evil thing you've ever plotted, Hunk,” Allura gasped.

 

“Hey, you mess with my friends, you mess with me. And I've got enough Legos to supply Matt and Pidge for well over a year.”

 

“I'll be sure to warn him when I see him tonight,” Lance conceded, unable to hide the giddiness in his face. “Holy crow, what should I wear?!”

 

_____________________________________

 

“I mean, he's basically seen you naked, so does it matter?” Pidge sat cross-legged in the middle of Keith's bed as he rifled through his closet. He had hours to get ready, but the more he thought about it, the more nervous he got.

 

“Yes? I think? I don't know Pidge. Do you know how long it's been since I went on an actual date?”

 

Pidge took a breath.

 

“Don't answer that,” Keith glared over his shoulder. 

 

“Keith whatever you wear, I'm sure Lance will still think you're as awesome as he thought you were when you left in his shirt and shorts this morning.” 

 

“What if we run out of things to talk about? What if he hates the restaurant? What if…”

 

“What if alien space cruisers enter the atmosphere and extraterrestrial warlords enslave the human race to supply resources to fuel their hostile takeover of the entire universe!?” Pidge shouted, throwing her hands in the air. 

 

“That's… oddly specific.” Keith quirked an eyebrow at her as he pulled yet another shirt off its hanger, only to toss it unceremoniously to the floor. 

 

“I'm just saying, Keith, there's no way to know how it's gonna go unless you try.”

 

He didn’t respond, digging deeper into his closet.

 

“What are you even looking for? Face it, your wardrobe consists of three colors: black, grey, and red.”

 

Keith pulled a yellow t-shirt from the depths, looked at it, and threw it in her face.

 

“Hey!” she tossed it on the floor with the others. “I’m just trying to help.”

 

Sighing, he turned to face her, eyes downcast. “I know. I’m just… really anxious. And it’s stupid because I’ve known him for one goddamn week. I just… don’t wanna screw this up.”

 

“I know,” she responded quietly, getting up. “Just don’t tie yourself up into knots, okay?” Pidge stood on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

 

He nodded, turning back to his decimated bedroom to sift through the rest of his clothing.

 

After two hours, Keith was freshly showered and dressed in black jeans and a red flannel shirt rolled to the elbows. He meandered out into the common area where Pidge sat at her computer and flopped on the couch. 

 

Pidge spared him a glance. “You look cute,” she commented idly. “Matt just left for Membership Committee.”

 

“Without you?”

 

“I'm gonna take my scooter. I wanted to stay here to make sure you were alright.” 

 

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Hey Pidge?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

 

“We already know that’s not the case.” Her eyes were still focused on the screen in front of her. “Next question.”

 

“What if he learns more about me and makes a more informed decision?”

 

At that she turned her chair fully around. “I know it’s an understatement to say that this is hard for you,” she began slowly, “but if you never put yourself out there, you’re gonna miss out on a lot, and sometimes that means taking shots that you’re not certain you’re gonna make. So you have to decide if it’s worth the risk.”

 

“I think I’ve already decided,” he responded after a minute. “But what if I’m wrong?”

 

“You can’t respond to future problems with a present state of mind. You being wrong about this could mean an infinite number of things, and there’s no way to have a contingency plan for every single one.” She gave him a small smile. “You’re just going to have to wait and find out.”

 

Keith groaned, but returned the smile. “Thanks, Pidge.”

 

“Anytime.”

 

He slowly got to his feet, deciding he needed something to take the edge off. He found a bottle of tequila in the cabinet and poured himself a shot, smiling to himself at the thought of who gave him his last shot of tequila.

 

(15:56) Hey, it’s Keith :) good luck on your test! Pick you up at 6?

 

He pressed send before he could think too hard about it and resumed his spot on the couch, resolving to play a few rounds of Smash against Pikachu bots to clear his head. His phone buzzed next to him on the couch right as the console loaded.

 

_ (15:58) Yes please :) Hey Keith? _

 

(15:59) Yeah?

 

_ (16:02) I'm really excited _

 

Keith smiled to himself, but secretly wondered if he'd given Lance the idea somehow that he needed reassurance. He couldn't think of anything specific that he'd said. 

 

(16:04) Me too :)

 

_ (16:06) This is Matt. STOP DISTRACTING MY PADAWAN _ .  _ He'll see you soon. Promise. _

 

(16:07) Sorry :P Can't help it

 

Moments later Keith received a text from Matt’s phone.

 

_ (16:12) Glad you're feeling better. I swear, this kid has the attention span of a goldfish for everything except you. Dude's nervous about your date too, so at least you have something in common to talk about when you pick him up. He won't stop bouncing his leg under the table.  _

 

(16:14) Aren't you supposed to be proctoring their quiz?

 

(16:15) Also, thanks Matt

 

________________________________________

  
  


“Lance would you quit looking out the window every thirty seconds, you're making me nervous!”

 

“Sorry, sorry!” Lance dropped the curtain and glanced at Allura, trying to look repentant. 

 

“It's 5:57pm, Lance, calm down.” Hunk turned a page in the textbook he was reading without looking up. “I seriously doubt he's going to stand you up.”

 

“I certainly hope he doesn’t. The soles of his feet depend on it,” Allura giggled. Hunk pointed at Allura in agreement.

 

Lance tilted his head back onto the couch and sighed heavily. “What time is it now?”

 

Hunk glared at him over the top of his book. “That is not calming down.”

 

At that moment there was a soft knock at the door, and Lance practically leapt off his seat in his eagerness to answer it. Hunk and Allura returned to their feigned studying. 

 

When he opened the door, he couldn't help but notice how good Keith looked in flannel. Then he caught himself thinking that Keith looked good no matter what he was wearing.  _ Or wasn't wearing… _ Shit, he was pretty sure he was just staring now. 

 

“Is that my cap?”

 

Lance smiled, subconsciously putting a hand to the knit cap he'd found on his floor earlier. “What, this old thing? Nah, I've had it for years.”

 

Keith smirked, rolling his eyes. “It looks good on you.”

 

“Th-thanks,” Lance stuttered. He cleared his throat. 

 

“You ready to go?” Keith smiled. 

 

“Have him back by ten,” Hunk chuckled from behind his textbook. 

  
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Allura added.

 

“Well that’s not very restricting,” Lance quipped with a smile.

 

“Jerk.”

 

“Love you too, byeeee!” With that Lance stepped out of the duplex and shut the door, unintentionally crowding into Keith’s personal space, not that either of them minded. 

 

“Hey,” Keith half-smiled. 

 

“Hey.” 

 

Keith shyly offered his hand to Lance, who took it gratefully. As they turned to walk to Keith’s car, and Lance finally got a good look, he stopped in the driveway, mouth slightly agape. 

 

“Woah! This is your car?!”

 

“It is.” Keith watched Lance’s reaction in his periphery. “It was a, uh, gift from my dad.” 

 

“That’s awesome!” Lance’s gaze raked down the silhouette of the jet black sports car parked in his driveway. “Wait, you deliver pizza in a  _ Mustang?!” _

 

He sighed and tugged Lance over to the passenger side and opened the door for him.

 

“I also take cute boys on dates in it,” he winked, trying to change the subject. Satisfied with the flustered silence of the boy now seated in his car, he shut the door and hopped into the driver’s seat. To Lance’s complete surprise, Keith reached down and lifted the free end of the AUX cord in offering. 

 

“Wait, seriously?”

 

“Should I be worried?”

 

“Hunk would say yes.” 

 

“And Allura?”

 

“... would demand sex and glitter,” Lance chuckled. 

 

“Wait, what.”

 

Before Keith could protest, Lance started a playlist on his phone, and Kesha blared through the speakers. Keith laughed as Lance began dancing in the front seat and miming the lyrics, pointing and winking at him as Kesha sang about making the hipsters fall in love.

 

“It could be worse,” Keith shrugged, pulling out of the driveway. 

 

“Oh you know it!” Lance shouted. “Hey Siri! Play Wrecking Ball!”

 

“Nooooo!” Keith couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. By far, of what he’d seen of Lance, Goofball Lance was his favorite. He had to admit, as Miley Cyrus’ voice regrettably filled the car, he was pretty impressed that Lance knew all the words.

 

“So what’s this place called?” Lance turned down the volume a bit so they could hear each other.

 

“Love Sushi.”

 

“What happens if someone goes there but they only  _ like _ sushi?”

 

“Haha,” Keith deadpanned. Grinning, he hit his turn signal. “It’s not terribly expensive and you get a lot of bang for your buck. I’ve been to another location before, but this one just opened up. I think it’s owned by the same guy though.”

 

“I’m sure it’s great. Not gonna lie, though, I might not even notice the sushi.” Lance cast a sly, but soft look across the center console. 

 

“Not fair. I’m driving.”

 

Lance chuckled and rested his hand on top of Keith’s where it was on the gear shift.

 

“I have to counter you somehow. You’re driving a stick shift Mustang dressed in the hottest outfit I have ever seen, and I’ve seen you in  _ my _ shirt. Like, I’m fairly certain my brain-capacity has been reduced to base-level functioning.”

 

“Which includes the ability to flirt with me?”

 

“Keith, I’d flirt with you if I was dead.” 

 

Keith pursed his lips to hide his smile. “You aren’t playing very fair right now. And for the record, you look cuter in my cap than I do. And I just don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to forgive you for that.”

 

“I have ideas…” Lance laughed, looking quickly out the window.

 

“Oh?” Keith quirked an eyebrow at him. “Interesting.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Maybe, just maybe,” Keith teased, “I also have ideas.”

 

Lance continued to pretend he was riveted by the passing scenery, but Keith saw the flush creeping up his neck and chuckled. He flexed his fingers up to intwine them in Lance’s, definitely taking note of how the other man’s breath hitched in his throat. Meanwhile, Lance struggled to keep the butterflies in his stomach from consuming him completely. 

 

They pulled into the parking lot, reluctantly separating their hands to exit the vehicle, but rejoined them almost immediately. 

 

“So when did your dad get you that car?”

 

Lance noticed Keith’s smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. “I was sixteen. I had just gotten my license and had been saving for a really long time. He promised to match whatever I had, but it wasn’t enough and he...he covered the rest anyway.”

 

Lance nodded slowly, trying to read between the lines, but not pressing the point. He decided to avoid the topic for the time being. 

 

“I never learned to drive stick. You make it look super easy, but I don't think I could focus that much all the time.”

 

“It becomes pretty automatic after a while. Admittedly it is easier to stay focused when  _ someone _ isn't mercilessly flirting with you from the passenger seat.”

 

Lance grinned, trying to look innocent. “I’m sorry, was I distracting you?”

 

“Only a lot,” he purposely bumped his shoulder into Lance, watching as Lance’s grin widened to match his own, still slightly in shock that he was holding with hands with someone like him. They stepped inside and followed the hostess to a booth in the back of the building, Lance taking a seat opposite Keith after a short internal debate with himself over just gluing himself next to Keith on whichever side he decided to choose. Hunk’s earlier logic won out this time, but Lance honestly wasn't sure how long that would last. 

 

“Have you ever tried sake?” Keith asked, opening his menu.

 

“No, but…” he looked at Keith questioningly, “isn’t that alcohol?”

 

“Yeah,” he didn’t look up. “Do you want to try it? It’s pretty good.”

 

“Do you know the manager or something? How are you gonna get them to serve us?”

 

Keith looked confused. “What do you mean, I’m twenty-one?”

 

Lance’s expression became even more puzzled. “I thought you were a sophomore!”

 

“I am,” he looked embarrassed, “I just took a year off after high school. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do.” 

 

“Oh. Well that makes sense. Sort of. I can't believe your artwork didn't provide a big enough hint. I mean, it is amazing.” Lance flipped the page in his menu. “What'd you do for a year between high school and college, then?” 

 

“Not much, really,” Keith shrugged.

 

_ Made a lot of dumb decisions. _

 

“It was pretty boring in our small town. I grew up with Pidge and Matt.”

 

_ Had my heart ripped completely out of my chest.  _

 

“When Pidge started applying to school, she convinced me to try. It worked out better for me, in that regard.”

 

_ Okay, Keith, knock it off. _

 

“You’re an education major right? How’d you decide on that?” 

 

“Oh, that was an easy choice. I have two siblings significantly younger than me, and then my two older siblings both have children of their own.” Lance took a sip of his water. “So it just kinda made sense. I'm pretty good with kids.”

 

“Can tame wild animals. Check.” 

 

Lance laughed. “Something like that. So did you always want to be an artist?”

 

“Not always,” Keith toyed with his straw wrapper. “I’ve always kind of doodled. Once I got to high school I had a teacher that took me under her wing, helped me hone my skills I guess. She got a couple of my pieces into an art show when I was a senior, and I had a few colleges contact me about scholarships. So when I ended up applying here, they made a really good offer,” he chuckled, “Pidge wouldn’t let me turn it down.”

 

“I'm glad she didn't.”

 

Keith was beginning to notice the difference between Lance's cheeky flirting and  _ something else.  _ He wasn't exactly sure how to describe the way Lance made him feel genuinely like the most important person in the world, but it was ground shaking. And he loved it, as much as it was starting to scare the Hell out of him. 

 

When their waitress came by to take their order, Keith flashed his ID and ordered them a bottle of sake to share, as well as some gyoza. Lance couldn’t help but notice that Keith was resisting most of his efforts to get him to open up, and he wasn’t sure if he should say something about it, or leave it for the time being. A voice in the back of his mind told him he was being pushy and annoying. That the more time Keith spent with him the more his initial attraction to Lance would wear off, just like with every woman he'd ever taken on a date. That it was because he was unworthy of Keith. Of  _ this _ . 

 

“Hey, whatcha thinking about?”

 

Lance looked up and realized Keith was staring intently at him, brows creased in a frown. He supplied a wan smile in response.

 

“Just wondering… if I’m pushing too hard. I really like you and wanna get to know you better, but…” he trailed off.

 

Keith looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think I don’t feel the same way. It’s just…” he took a deep breath, “this stuff is hard for me. I’m kind of a basket case, and I feel like I’m too much for people, so I tend to… not… share stuff,” he finished lamely.

 

Lance cocked his head and offered a comforting smile.

 

“Oh okay. That's okay. And also, you aren’t too much… I was um, ironically, worrying about the same thing… just now…” he scratched his head and allowed his grin to widen into something a bit more sheepish.

 

Keith's eyes widened in surprise. All evening he'd been nothing if not enamored with the blue-eyed boy now confessing his insecurity from across the table as their gyoza and sake arrived. Keith served them the warm alcohol, sliding a small ceramic cup over the expanse of the table. He caught Lance's hand as he reached for it, lightly worrying a slow, indiscriminate pattern across his knuckles. 

 

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. Honestly, you're probably the most interesting person I've met since coming to college.”

 

Electricity surged from their point of contact up Lance's arm and short circuited his brain, quieting the barrage of insults his subconscious was tossing around his skull. For a moment there were only warm fingers brushing his and a silence more reprieving than any song he'd ever blared in his car to drown out his own thoughts. In a fleeting, terrifying, wonderful musing, Lance thought that Keith might simultaneously be the answer he'd been searching for and the biggest question he'd ever asked. Some practical part of him quickly dismissed the notion in favor of taking the sake with his other hand to leave their fingers able to ghost across the planes of one another's hand.

 

“Sip that, don't shoot it,” Keith warned briefly, realizing that a sake glass most definitely looks like a shot glass. 

 

“Pro tip,” Lance chuckled trying to lighten the mood. “So you've been to one of these places before, what do you recommend?”

 

Keith pushed his menu so that it lay in the middle of the table facing both of them. He began talking animatedly about the different sushi rolls, some fresh, others cooked, and how some of them were served while on fire. Lance  _ was _ listening, but part of him couldn’t tear his attention away from the fact that he was sitting here, with Keith, holding his hand. 

 

“So did anything in particular catch your eye?”

 

Lance idly turned a page of the menu. “Besides you? The caterpillar roll looks good.” When Keith didn’t respond, he glanced up, just in time to observe Keith’s face turn a delightful shade of pink. He laughed quietly to himself. “Too easy.”

 

“How do you just do that?” Keith choked out weakly.

 

Lance looked up again. “What do you mean?”

 

He gestured with his free hand. “Just... say cute stuff like that to me like it’s no big deal?”

 

Lance smiled, shrugging. “I dunno, maybe ‘cause it’s true? And I like watching your reactions, you always seem so caught off guard.” He took a sip of his sake. “It’s like you don’t know or something.”

 

“Know what?”

 

“How insanely talented you are. Or funny. Or attractive. Like, do you  _ own _ a mirror? Did you happen to catch a glimpse of yourself today? Because lemme tell you, it’s distracting.”

 

Keith’s blush deepened dramatically. “I mean,I've had people tell me all that, but never as often or as matter-of-factly as you do. I think part of the shock is that it seems to get  _ more _ frequent the longer I spend time with you.”

 

“Are you okay with it? I can tone it down…”

 

“I'd be lying if I said I didn't  _ really _ like it,” Keith’s eyes fell back to the menu. 

 

“Okay, good, because not hitting on you was gonna be really hard,” Lance sighed in a rush of relief. 

 

The waitress arrived with their gyoza, and the two reluctantly parted hands to make room for it. Keith then supplied her with their order for three sushi rolls to share while Lance eagerly unsheathed his chopsticks. By the time Keith’s attention had returned, two of the six gyoza were missing. He quirked an eyebrow.

 

“That was fast.”

 

“So good,” Lance mumbled behind the food in his mouth. 

 

“Glad you like it,” Keith laughed. 

 

“So,” Lance began, wiping his mouth on his napkin, “which Twenty One Pilots song did you hear first, which one is your favorite pick me up, and which one do you listen to when you just want to wallow in self-pity, and don’t say you don’t wallow, because if you listen to them, of course you fucking do.” Lance pointed a chopstick at Keith in challenge. 

 

Keith rested his chin in his hand. “Did you rehearse that?”

 

“Technically, yes. But not just for you! For  _ anyone _ who listens to them. Because so far, I know very few people who do. But mark my words. They  _ are _ the next big thing.”

 

“Oh, I’m already on board, you don’t have to convince me,” he chuckled. “First song I heard was ‘Migraine’, and was immediately hooked. Favorite pick-me-up would probably be ‘Screen’, and I suppose  _ if _ I ever decided I  _ wanted _ to wallow, which I don’t,” Lance rolled his eyes in disbelief, “I’d probably listen to ‘Trapdoor’.”

 

“And now I know everything there is to know,” Lance chuckled behind his chopsticks. “I heard ‘Car Radio’ first. I listen to ‘Holding Onto You’ when I want to feel better, and ‘Truce’ when I don’t. Don’t get me wrong though, ‘Migraine’ is my  _ life _ .”

 

“As in you love it? Or you live it?” Keith probed, finally picking up a piece of gyoza. 

 

“Heh. Both.” 

 

“Noted,” he pushed a second piece around on the plate between them. “‘Ode to Sleep’ is probably the one I relate to most.”

 

Lance looked a little surprised, but nodded in acceptance of this new information. 

 

“Perhaps I don’t know everything, then.” 

 

“I’m full of surprises,” he teased, finishing his half of the gyoza. “Have you ever seen them in concert?”

 

“No,” he responded sullenly. 

 

“Would you like to?” 

 

“Keith Kogane this had better not be a joke.”

 

Keith pulled up a website on his phone.

 

“A place in town just released their show list for the next few months. Twenty One Pilots is on it.”

 

“No. Way.” Lance leaned abruptly so far over the table, Keith worried they might bump heads at first. “Oh my God Keith we  _ have _ to go… Wait, are we making second date plans while we’re still on our first one?”

 

“Possibly,” Keith said slowly, tilting his head to one side. “Is that okay, or…?”

 

“What? Yes. Please. Can we go?!” Suddenly Lance’s kinship with children made much more sense, as he bounced in his seat on the other side of the table. 

 

“Well, yeah,” he laughed, “that was the idea. It’s a couple months away still, but if you want I can get our tickets tonight just to be safe.”

 

“Yes. Definitely.” Lance thought he might die of excitement. 

 

At that moment, the rest of their food arrived, and the two eagerly dug in. They had gotten a California roll at Keith’s insistence (“It’s  _ classic _ !”), Lance had chosen the caterpillar roll, and they agreed to also get a shrimp tempura roll. The topic of Twenty One Pilots kept them occupied for the rest of the meal as they argued over which songs they might hear at the concert and whether or not the band would be any good live. Before long, the waitress brought them some orange slices and the check. Keith grabbed it before Lance had the chance to.

 

“Hey, what are you doing, we can split it!”

 

“If you’re saying that because it would make you more comfortable, I’ll allow it,” he was already getting out his card. “But if you’re saying that for any other reason, request denied.”

 

“I just... don’t want you to feel obligated,” Keith was satisfied to notice a faint blush on his cheeks.

 

“I want to,” Keith smiled. “Also, you fed me this morning, so if it makes you feel better, now we’re even.”

 

“Well, then thank you for dinner,” Lance returned the smile, still blushing. 

 

Keith peeked down at his watch as the waitress retrieved their payment. 

 

“It’s still pretty early. Pidge mentioned some of the other members of the fraternity were going for some appetizer special at a German pub on the other side of town after their meeting, which means she’ll be out late. Do you want to go chill at my place for a little while?”

 

Lance tried not to look too eager when he nodded, but could tell he failed miserably when Keith smirked confidently back at him. They’d been flirting so heavily since Keith picked him up, Lance was honestly  _ dying _ to get the dark-haired boy somewhere he could kiss the shit-eating grin right off his face. 

 

They rose to leave, joining hands as they did so. Keith was very aware that Lance was walking  _ quite _ close to him as they made their way back to the car. When he went to open the door, Lance pushed it shut again before gently shoving Keith backwards against it, his lips finding purchase on Keith’s own. Keith giggled into Lance’s mouth as his hands found their way to rest at his hips. Lance pulled away to examine him. 

 

“Someone’s impatient.” 

 

“I mean, you can’t take a guy out, buy him dinner, drive him around in a Mustang, and  _ not _ expect him to want to kiss your brains out.” Lance rolled his eyes like that was obvious. 

 

“Right, right, I forgot. How silly of me,” Keith chuckled, leaning back into Lance’s space for another kiss. And then another. And another. And before either of them knew it, they were full-on making out in the parking lot, which was fine and all, until they heard a group of people loudly leaving the restaurant through the door twenty feet behind them. “Let’s take this somewhere more private,” Keith breathed into Lance’s ear. He couldn’t find the willpower to argue with that, so he allowed Keith enough room to slide past him and make his way to the other side of the car. He felt a swell of pride as Keith ran a flustered hand through his hair as he walked.

 

Lance couldn’t help but notice that the drive back to Keith’s apartment went marginally faster than the drive to the restaurant. “Now who’s impatient?” he asked smugly.

 

“Mmm, still you. I only aim to please.” Keith slowed the car to a crawl down the road. “If you aren’t in a hurry…”

 

“Keeeiiiiith…” Lance whined. 

 

“What?” he demanded innocently, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Y’know maybe we should take the scenic route…”

 

Even as he teased, Keith resumed his quickened pace down the street, quieting the complaints from the passenger seat. Lance was drawing patterns on the back of his hand where it rested on the gear shift.

 

When they pulled into the parking lot, Lance moved to immediately exit the car, but it was still locked. He turned to protest, but Keith’s hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him in close for another dizzying kiss. Before long, Lance had all but climbed into his lap in the driver’s seat.

 

“Mmm,” Lance pulled away briefly, eyes still closed. “We should go inside.”

 

Keith nuzzled his neck eliciting a soft purr from Lance. “M’kay.”

 

They awkwardly disentangled themselves from each other and Keith’s seat belt and made their way up the apartment stairs. Keith fumbled with his keys as Lance snaked his hands around his waist to rest his chin on his shoulder. He unlocked the door and the pair all but stumbled through it. Keith kicked the door closed behind them. Meanwhile, Lance had already started in clumsily on unbuttoning his flannel shirt. The blue-eyed boy nervously chewed on his bottom lip. Keith grabbed Lance’s wrists gently to get his attention before they got carried away again. 

 

“I have no expectations. Whatever you’re comfortable with, I am totally down for. But you’re not going to disappoint me, even if you just want to cuddle. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Lance nodded, a small appreciative smile forming on his face. Keith released his wrists to allow Lance to continue down the line of buttons. Something had shifted in the energy between them. Their movements were less frenzied as Keith allowed his shirt to fall to the floor behind him. He stepped up to guide Lance backward down the hall toward his room, kissing him lightly on the lips as they went. He’d forgotten completely about half of all of the clothing he owned now laying in a pile at the foot of his bed, but Lance didn’t seem to notice. At all. He left Lance standing next to his bed momentarily to tug on the cord on his bedside lamp, which let off a soft glow in the room. Keith glanced back over his shoulder to find Lance  _ totally _ staring at his ass. 

 

“Subtle,” Keith chuckled. 

 

“I’m sorry, was that what we were going for? Because I received the complete opposite message from your tongue in my mouth.” Lance eyed Keith from the short distance between them, which diminished suddenly as Keith returned to Lance’s side. 

 

Without preamble, he pushed Lance’s hips gently until his back was against the door, looking at him intently, searchingly. “Yeah, subtlety isn’t my strong suit either,” he breathed quietly. At that, Lance pulled him in, the desperation returning as his hands wound around Keith’s neck and into his hair, tugging gently. Keith’s lips trailed down his jawline, nuzzling against his neck and nipping hesitantly. When Lance nearly moaned in response, he became much more enthusiastic, alternating between soft kisses and grazing teeth.

 

“You bruise easily?” Keith panted.

 

“I don't even care. Just don't stop that…” Lance's voice trailed off as Keith dragged his lips down the column of his throat, one of his hands moving to pull back the collar of his long-sleeved shirt. Lance pressed closer, one hand brushing around and up the back of Keith’s undershirt to explore while the other hand pulled a bit harder on Keith's hair, drawing an almost strangled noise from Keith's chest. Taking note of that shining nugget of information, Lance drew his nails softly down the other man’s back. Keith arched forward, his head falling back as he sharply inhaled, and Lance took the opportunity to repay a few of the hickeys he was sure to have already. Keith sighed heavily into him as Lance trailed his fingers down his spine once again, harder this time. Their lips found each other, and Lance gently pushed the other man away towards the bed. 

 

Keith happily obliged, stepping backward until he felt the edge of the mattress against the backs of his knees and then sinking down onto it. Lance followed, straddling his lap and closing the distance between them once again, his arms around Keith’s neck. Keith slipped his hands up the back of the other man’s shirt, enjoying the warmth under his hands and pulling Lance even closer. After a moment, he started sliding Lance’s shirt upwards, emboldened as the other man shifted to allow him to pull it over his head. Their lips separated briefly but quickly found each other once again. He then felt Lance’s hands slide down to find the hem of his own undershirt, tugging insistently. He smiled into their kiss before pulling back and helping the shirt over his head. Lance caught his wrists this time, and shifted his weight forwards to push Keith back and into the bed, pinning him.

 

“This feels familiar,” Keith was able to quip before Lance pressed their lips together again, slower this time. Their fingers wound together as Lance sank lower until he was practically laying on top of Keith. Out of breath and slightly worried his weight would be uncomfortable for Keith, Lance rolled onto his side, one leg still hitched across Keith's thighs, and rested his head gently on Keith’s shoulder.

 

Keith reached up and removed his hat from Lance's head, tossing it lazily off the end of the bed in favor of carding his fingers through the soft hair it covered. 

“Is that you and your dad?” Lance asked quietly after a moment, spotting a photo of a small child with a tiny mullet in the arms of a man in a black shirt and brown suspenders attached to a pair of what appeared to be the pants of a fire fighting uniform covered in soot. He felt Keith's body stiffen under him for a second. 

 

The photo was on the top of a low bookshelf on the other side of the room. Keith honestly hadn't expected Lance to notice it in the low light. 

 

“Yeah, I was about five. My mom took me up to the station to watch them wash the trucks, but she didn't know they'd just come back from a three alarm. It was at an empty warehouse, so nobody was hurt, but they'd been fighting it all morning. He was exhausted.” Keith looked up at the ceiling as he recalled the memory, and Lance got the idea that talking about his dad made Keith uncomfortable for some reason. Lance didn't remember Keith mentioning his dad at all when he'd talked about coming out to Pidge and Matt. Maybe his dad hadn't taken it well?

 

His eyes kept wandering around the room, taking in the sparse decorations, and he noticed that that was the only photo besides one on the dresser of a slightly younger Keith leaning against his car. Lance figured it was probably from back when his dad had gotten it for him, but then why didn't he look excited, or even happy? 

 

He noticed Keith was watching him, a nervous expression pinching his features, and Lance realized the other man was holding his breath. “Hey,” his voice was quiet as he brushed the hair back from Keith's forehead. “Is something bothering you?”

 

Keith exhaled slowly, his eyes falling to one side, seemingly focused inward. He was quiet for a moment. “I know I'm not really giving you a lot to work with conversation-wise…” he began slowly, “and I don't want you to think that I don't want to talk to you about my life… it's just a difficult topic for me. And I'm kinda worried that if you knew even just a little about how messed up it is, you'd run the other direction.”

 

“Keith we've all got baggage, and you don't have to unpack everything on my account. But I'm not gonna judge you for it either. I know you now. Knowing where you've been and who you were just gives me some context, but you don't owe me any explanations. I like who you are right now, and that is more than enough reason for me to stick around, regardless of the things that make you worry about scaring me away. If you haven't figured it out already, I'm a little stubborn.” Lance lifted his head to look at Keith. “But you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to. Just tell me to drop it if I ask something too hard and I will. No questions asked.”

 

“Thanks, Lance.” Keith relaxed at the out offered to him, resuming the intricate work of parting and re-smoothing Lance's hair over his scalp.

 

Lance spotted Keith's electric guitar on its stand by his open closet door.

 

“So how long have you played guitar?”

 

That brought the smile back to Keith's face. “I think I was eight? My dad would always sing me to sleep when I was little, and when I got a bit older he started trying to teach me basic chords. I… resisted… to say the least. The strings hurt my fingers!” he protested as Lance chuckled. “But it ended up being something I didn't know I needed. Playing just… makes me feel better.”

 

Lance nodded. “That's kinda what cooking is for me. Mi abuelita lives with us, so I've been learning from her my whole life. It helps me feel connected to them when I'm away.”

 

“You're really close with your family, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” Lance smiled. “I mean, don't get me wrong, we drive each other crazy sometimes, and my nieces and nephews can be a handful, and holidays are chaotic to say the least, but,” he shrugged, “that's what family is.”

 

“I wouldn't really know,” Keith's voice was quiet. “It was just me and my parents.”

 

“Really?” Lance craned his neck to look at Keith's face. “You never knew your grandparents or your parent's siblings?”

 

He shook his head slightly. “I think my mom had a falling out with her family at some point. And my dad was an only child whose parents had him later in life. They died when I was too young to remember.”

 

“That sucks, I'm sorry.” 

 

Keith shrugged. 

 

“I think it made the little family I had that much more important to me.” Keith looked thoughtfully at Lance. “So abuelita means grandma, right?”

 

They spent the evening cuddling in Keith's bed. Lance even tried to teach Keith some conversational Spanish, teasing him over his pronunciation. At one point, after ascertaining they were still alone in the apartment, Keith got up to scoop two bowls of caramel praline crunch ice cream which they ate in bed while talking about the merits of different ice cream flavors (“If it doesn't have caramel it's worthless.” “Keith there is no such thing as worthless ice cream.”). 

 

Eventually, Lance began nodding off, something prevented only by Keith's insistent prodding. 

 

“Hey, sleepyhead, when's your first class tomorrow?” 

 

“Hmm?” Lance's eyes didn't open. 

 

Keith rolled his eyes, grinning at the dozing man snuggled up next to him. “What time do you need to be up?”

 

“Mmm, class s'at nine.”

 

“Fine, I’m waking you up at seven-thirty.”

 

“Whatime’s it?”

 

Keith shimmied out of his jeans under the covers. “Almost midnight.” He snuggled closer, pressing his lips softly against Lance’s cheek. “G’nite.”

 

“Mmm, g’nite.”


	7. Just Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG TW: This chapter is very heavy with anxiety and some unhealthy coping behaviors (nothing serious but Dunu was having a rough week when we wrote this chapter so it might be unhelpfully accurate).

Lance woke up the next morning  pressed back-to-chest with Keith, with one of Keith’s arms thrown over his waist holding him close. He let out a quiet sigh of contentment, so comfortable and warm that he didn’t want to move. Keith stirred behind him, and he heard a muffled “g’morning” before Keith burrowed under the covers again, laying his cheek against Lance’s back.

 

Thinking back, he couldn’t quite remember deciding to stay the night, or asking if it was okay for that matter. Though judging by a certain someone nestled up to him, he was pretty sure his presence was welcome. He covered Keith’s hand with his own, enjoying the way they fit together.

 

“Shoot. What time is it?” Lance fumbled around on the bed for his phone. Unhelpfully, Keith grumbled from between his shoulder blades.

 

“Too early.”

 

“My phone’s dead, did you plug yours in?”

 

“Mhmm. Set an alarm. Didn’t go off yet. Too early.”

 

Lance relaxed a bit at that. He rolled over, eyes bright, to look at Keith.

 

“You have class too?”

 

“Sshhhhhhh…” Keith raised a finger to press over Lance’s lips, making him chuckle. He drew his fingers through Keith’s tangled hair, delighting in the pleased rumble coming from the other man’s throat. They lay like that for a little while longer, but too soon Keith’s alarm was blaring:

 

“It’s Courtney, bitch!”

 

Lance actually laughed out loud as the music began. “Is this Fall Out Boy?”

 

There was a loud thump on the wall and a garbled order for silence from the next room. 

 

“Mhm. And that’s Pidge.”

 

“Keith do not make me come drag you out of your bed. I don’t care if Lance is in there or not. If you snooze that alarm and it goes off again, you’ll regret it!” came the voice of a clearly half-asleep Pidge. 

 

“Fine, but I’m only making enough coffee for the two of us!” Keith grumbled back at her. 

 

“Jerk!”

 

“Mooch!”

 

“You fight like Veronica and I used to in high school,” Lance snorted.

 

“Oh that wasn’t fighting. That was just Monday morning,” Keith yawned. “Pidge waits until the  _ literal _ last second to get up and ride with me to campus. We’re in the same class this morning.” He rolled over to face the wall. “And we need to leave early so I can take Lance back to his place!”

 

“Not my problem!” she shouted back. 

 

“It is if you want to get your extra fifteen minutes of sleep in the car!”

 

“Uuugggghhhh…”

 

Keith laughed. 

 

“She’ll be ready. You wanna take a quick shower here?”

 

Lance was pretty sure his brain just shut down as a vision of Keith in a bath towel shoved itself into his mind. 

 

“We could save water and shower together,” Keith winked. 

 

Yep. Lance.exe had stopped working. 

 

“Oh no you don’t!” Pidge warned through the wall. “There will be no shower canoodling in this apartment!”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, turning his blinding smile on Lance, who was all but comatose in the bed.

 

“Wow,” Keith took in Lance’s shocked exterior. “Did I flirt  _ you _ into embarrassment for a change?”

 

“I just… uh…” Remembering Pidge, Lance lowered his voice to a whisper. “I haven’t ever done something so intimate like…  that… As a matter of fact last night was the only time I’ve ever even made out with a light on.” 

 

Keith’s eyebrows shot up at that revelation. “Can I ask why?”

 

For the first time since they’d started talking, Lance hesitated to answer one of Keith’s questions. 

 

“I would attribute it mostly to lack of experience in general,” Lance answered nervously. “I’ve only really seriously fooled around with one other person. I’ve made out with a few more, but I can count on two hands the number of times. My first kiss was in a closet at a party in high school.” Lance did not look up as he finished his explanation. It didn’t seem like a lie, exactly, but Keith felt like it definitely wasn’t the whole truth. He reached out and squeezed Lance’s hand. 

 

“Okay, addendum to our rule. If  _ I _ ask a question you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to either.” 

 

Lance scrounged up a small smile to offer Keith as he nodded. 

 

“We should come up with a code word,” Lance scoffed almost bitterly at himself. 

 

“I’ll work on it,” Keith responded, kissing him on the cheek. “C’mon, I’ll make coffee.”

 

They slowly got up and Lance began retrieving articles of clothing from around the room as Keith dug through the pile at the foot of his bed. “You need to do laundry,” Lance teased.

 

“These, uh, aren’t dirty,” Keith replied sheepishly. “I might’ve gutted my closet looking for an outfit yesterday…”

 

Now it was Lance’s turn to look surprised. “Seriously? I had no idea you were as nervous as I was.”

 

He shrugged in response. “Lots of practice, I guess.”

 

“Practice with what?”

 

He returned his attention to the discard pile, avoiding Lance’s eyes and trying to sound nonchalant. “Pretending.”

 

Like the concussion of the beat of a bass drum reverberating off his ribs, Keith’s words punched Lance in the chest. But where the excitement of a drumline would have set his senses abuzz, a slow and itching ache filled him.  _ Pretending _ ? He briefly worried for himself. Was this Keith finally realizing he  _ was _ too much after all? Had he  _ pretended _ all weekend? But mostly, he worried for the man standing in front of him staring at the floor. What exactly did he mean by that? What made Keith, with the beautiful artwork and the smile to match, feel like he had to  _ pretend _ to be anything but what Lance had seen of him?

 

Keith must have seen something in his face, because he quickly shrugged into a t-shirt and joggers and took Lance by the hand, forcing a smile. “Sorry, too heavy for a Monday. Let’s get that coffee.”

 

When the coffee was almost finished brewing, Pidge finally emerged in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. Keith offered her a mug.

 

“I thought you were giving my coffee to your boy toy,” she mumbled, accepting it gratefully.

 

“I am a generous god,” he deadpanned back. “You almost ready?”

 

She nodded. “You’re taking notes today though.”

 

At a quarter after eight, the three of them climbed into Keith’s car. Pidge took over the entire backseat to get more sleep, leaving the other two up front. They were quiet on the short drive back to Lance’s house, though Lance’s anxiety was slightly eased by the fact that Keith didn’t pull his hand away when Lance rested his own on it.

 

When they pulled into the driveway, Lance went to unbuckle his seatbelt but Keith caught his hand.

 

“Hang on a sec,” he said quietly. “I know things ended on a weird note this morning, but I want to make sure you know that I had an amazing time with you this weekend. And I definitely wanna keep doing… whatever this is. If you do, that is.”

 

“I do, want to, that is… It’s okay. I hope you didn’t feel like you were having to pretend… with me…”   
  


Keith’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? No!” He covered his face with his free hand. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. Of course I’m not pretending with you. You’re actually one of the few people that I  _ don’t _ feel like I have to pretend with. Please don’t think otherwise. I…I really like you.” He was blushing furiously.

 

Lance pulled Keith’s hand down. Relief shown clearly across his face. 

 

“So we’re good then?”

 

“God yes,” Keith nodded, pressing his forehead to Lance’s and bumping their noses lightly together. “I’m such an idiot, I should’ve never…”

 

Lance cut him off gently with a kiss. 

 

“It’s fine. I’m fine.  _ We’re _ fine.”

 

Keith closed his eyes and sighed. Just then, Pidge cleared her throat and the boys jumped, Lance flattening himself against the passenger door. 

 

“I’m glad everything is working out so well, but I would appreciate it if you could refrain from making out when I am in the car. Geez.” Her words carried no malice as she smirked sleepily at them from the backseat. 

 

“We weren’t… I just…” Lance stuttered.

 

Keith shook his head at his roommate and the amused expression she shot him from behind her glasses. 

 

“Text me when your phone is charged?” 

 

Lance nodded. 

 

“Later, Mullet.”

 

“Later, Lance,” Keith smiled.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


If class were half as interesting as spending time with Lance, Keith would have far fewer problems.

 

He dutifully took notes per Pidge’s demands (he knew better than to argue with her when she was hungover, and it  _ was _ his turn), but he would’ve much rather stayed in bed cuddling with Lance. He decided he’d post up somewhere obvious in the art building so Lance could find him between classes if he wanted to. He had the feeling he’d need to avoid mixing blues on his palette if he wanted to get any work done, though. Even now he found his focus slipping as he eyed a royal blue baseball cap on a student sitting in the front row of the lecture hall. Of course the color in general reminded Keith of Lance’s eyes, but there was more to it.  _ Everything _ about Lance was blue; the way he was swept up in the current of Lance’s laughter, the calm that lapped at the edges of his brain when Lance held his hand, the rush of overflowing want that crashed into his heart like a tidal wave when Lance pulled at his clothes and his hair… It was all blue, like the overwhelming, unending, glittering surface of the ocean. As it dawned on him how far he’d apparently already waded out into it, he pushed the thought from his mind. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

_ (09:53) Dude you just zoned out for three slides. You alright? _

 

Pidge was watching him from where she slouched low in her chair next to him.

 

(09:54) I'm fine. Just tired.

 

_ (09:55) Know that I don't believe that, but am too afflicted to argue with you right now. _

 

(09:55) Noted.

 

He returned to his task, but his brain was still providing unhelpful distractions. Like how perfectly Lance fit against him when they were laying in bed, or how soft his hair was. And the more Keith thought about how much he enjoyed spending time with Lance, the more he started to wonder if he deserved to. Lance was such a positive, unstoppable force, the kind of person people just gravitate towards. He was in the marching band, he was rushing a fraternity, he had a huge family at home who loved him… and what did Keith have to offer?

 

_ (10:01) Are you spiralling rn? _

 

He glanced at the message but didn’t respond, turning his phone on silent and putting it back in his pocket. Pidge kicked him.

 

“Ow! What?!” he whispered furiously at her.

  
“Don’t ignore me!” she whisper-shouted back. “Why are you spiralling, what could’ve possibly happened in that stupid brain of yours in the last hour?”

 

“ _ Nothing _ !”

 

“Ugh, you’re impossible.” She resumed her slouching. “I’ve known you for too long to believe that, but I’ll drop it. For now. But we’re talking about this later.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

 

“I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

 

“You just did, though,” Keith quipped. Pidge tried to kick him again, but he dodged her and pinned her ankle between his shins.

 

“Give it baaack,” she whined.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Pleeaase?”

 

“Only if you drop the interrogation. And stop fucking kicking me!”

 

“I will drop it for the rest of the day.”

 

“ _ And _ ?”

 

“I won’t kick you for the rest of class.”

 

“I’ll take it.” He released her.

 

The rest of class passed uneventfully. When they were dismissed from lecture, Keith pulled out his phone to turn it back to vibrate and saw he had a couple messages from Lance.

 

_ (10:15) Hey, found an outlet in class, phone has charge :) _

 

_ (10:22) They’re sending us on break at 10:30, wanna meet up? I’ll have 15 minutes or so _

 

As he was reading, another message popped up.

 

_ (10:31) I’m grabbing a bagel from the cafe by the art building if you’re free _

 

(10:33) I’ll be right there, sorry I didn’t see your messages, Pidge was blowing up my phone in class so I turned it on silent

 

_ (10:34) You getting an earful too? I had at least 20 messages from Hunk and Allura after I got my phone turned on. Not to mention I got read the riot act as soon as I got in the door this morning. They were...irritated, lol _

 

(10:34) Something like that. And sorry they were upset.

 

_ (10:35) They weren’t really, they just worry. I think they actually thought I’d be home at some point, lol _

 

After class was over, Keith walked into the cafe and quickly noticed Lance sitting at one of the small tables in a corner. Lance’s face lit up as soon as they made eye contact, and Keith couldn’t keep the smile from his own face as he picked his way between the other tables to make his way over. 

 

“Hey, how was class?”

 

Keith groaned propping his elbows on the table to rest his chin in his hands. “Early morning history lectures were a bad idea.”

 

Lance gave him a look. “Nine o’clock is  _ not _ that early.”

 

His mouth twisted in a grimace. “Nine-thirty.”

 

Lance gave a bark of incredulous laughter. “Seriously?”

 

“In case you hadn’t realized, I’m not a morning person,” he teased back.

 

“You're right, it completely escaped my notice.” He took a bite of his bagel. 

 

“You have painting this period, right?”

 

Lance made a face. “Yeah, and they wheeled in a cart of random crap and told us to pick a small part to paint. It's ridiculous.”

 

Keith chuckled. “I hated that project too. Don't worry, they're just looking for basic ability there, minimum effort. No reason to stress.”

 

He scoffed. “Easy for  _ you _ to say.”

 

“You've got a pretty high opinion of my ability for someone who's seen one thing I've drawn. For all you know, Pikachu is the only thing I'm good at.”

 

“Yeah, uh-huh, you're here on an  _ art scholarship _ .” Lance tapped the table for emphasis. “I'm not buying into your self-deprecation.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes at the determined look on Lance's face. “Fine, point taken. But only because I don't think you have time to argue anymore.”

 

Lance checked his phone. “Oops, yeah I've gotta go. But good to know I can win arguments by default, I'm sure that'll come in handy,” he winked before stuffing the last bite of his bagel into his mouth and running his trash to the wastebasket. He returned to grab his phone from the table, pausing to give Keith a quick kiss on the cheek. “Later, babe.”

 

Keith's face immediately flushed as elated butterflies erupted in his chest. He watched Lance go, the heavy, sinking feeling in his chest returning the moment he was out of sight.  _ What am I gonna do when he leaves me?  _

 

He forced the thought away, resolving to supplement his lecture notes with chapter annotations. After acquiring a latte from the cafe, he put his head down and got to work. The amount of concentration he put into his studying kept the intrusive thoughts at bay, but the panic in his chest continued to rise in his throat, threatening to suffocate him. So instead of waiting by his locker to see Lance between classes, he retrieved his drawing supplies and headed straight for his post in the library.

 

________________________________________

 

Lance was practically bouncing on the stool behind his easel. After Hunk's half-hearted dad speech this morning on their way to campus and Allura’s insistence upon “juicy details,” seeing Keith at the cafe was the recharge, and honestly the reassurance, he'd needed. Part of him still couldn't believe someone like Keith had seen fit to give him the time of day, let alone the whole weekend. Keith was handsome, and witty, and talented, and so far out of Lance's league. And he'd just kissed him on the cheek and called him babe! In public!

 

_ (11:12) Hunk will be at a meeting for a group project tonight, so it's just you and me for dinner. Should we order pizza? ;) _

 

(11:15) Allura there's no way I could eat pizza before pole class. I would die. 

 

_ (11:17) But then you'll have inspiration for freestyle if your favorite pizza boy stops by!  _

 

(11:18) Alluuuuuuraaaaaaaaa

 

_ (11:19) <3 _

 

(11:20) No pizza. Besides, I don't need any more inspiration than last night ;)

 

He laughed to himself. He hadn't told her anything about why he'd stayed the night with Keith, and it was fun as Hell to torture her. He'd tell her tonight since he'd get the chance to gush his brains out without the ever-logical Hunk there to talk sense at him (because let's be honest, he was too far gone to actually have sense talked  _ into _ him at this point).

 

_ (11:21) Lance. Spill. Pleeeeeease.  _

 

(11:22) Sorry, no can do. Gotta go! Talk to you tonight!

 

Hunk, who set up a few spaces down the row in the classroom, walked by at that moment to rinse out and refill his paint thinner bucket. 

 

“You gonna actually put paint on your canvas there, buddy?” he chuckled, noting that Lance's project looked suspiciously similar to the way it did before break. 

 

“I'm just trying to figure out where to tackle it next. It's a process. You can't rush genius.”

 

“Maybe your boyfriend could help you with it…”

 

Lance ducked behind his easel, pulling Hunk by the apron down to his eye level.

 

“He's not my boyfriend, Hunk. At least not yet… don't say that kind of stuff in the art building. I don't want to embarrass him or anything. He basically lives here,” he whispered. 

 

“If he's embarrassed to be your boyfriend, then he doesn't deserve to steal my best friend for an entire weekend of questionable activity without so much as a not-dead text.” Hunk was mostly kidding, but Lance could see a glimmer of concern in his expression.

 

“Hunk… I wish I could tell you that I know what I'm doing and that it'll be fine, but I can't. I know you're worried, but Keith makes me feel a way I don't think I've ever felt before, and I'm gonna have to take some risks to figure out what that is and what it means. I know you think I'm rushing into it, but I kinda need your support on this one.” Lance cast his eyes down to the floor between them.

 

“You really like him, don't you?”

 

Lance nodded almost guiltily.

 

“Alright. I'll lay off,” Hunk sighed. “And don't get me wrong, Lance, I think Keith's cool, I just also don't know that much about the guy. I just would hate to see you get hurt again.”

 

“I know, buddy, and I appreciate it,” Lance smiled. Hunk nodded and continued on his quest for more turpentine.

 

After class, Lance looked for Keith in the hallway, but didn't find him at his locker. He had a short break and a mock-up lesson plan to finish for his education class, so he wandered over to the cafe to make sure Keith wasn't still there before heading to his usual spot in the Student Center where he was sure to find a table full of Kappas both doing and avoiding their homework. Matt waved him down as he entered the giant complex.

 

“So I heard you stayed with a certain emo guitarist again last night,” Matt stated as Lance sat down next to him. Pidge sat across the table with another active in the fraternity doing some advanced mathematics on graph paper. 

 

“I can only imagine where you heard that,” Lance grumbled.

 

“A little birdie told me,” Matt chuckled. “So you're really into our resident grumpy cat?”

 

“You could say that,” Lance blushed. 

 

“And it's genuine, right?” Matt turned in his chair to cut off anyone else at the table from overhearing them. 

 

“Of course… why are you so concerned, if you don't mind my asking? Pidge asked me something similar after game night… did something happen?” Lance had to force the question out. He didn’t want to find out about Keith's problems from anyone other than the source himself, but he also wanted to do everything in his power to avoid pushing him away, so knowing a little history would be helpful. Matt shook his head. 

 

“That's Keith's story to tell. Just… try to remember he's got a lot of shit on his plate. Don't take it personally if he gets snippy with you. He does that with everyone, especially people he's close to, mostly because we're around him the most.” He turned his chair back. “I think it's great that you guys like each other. It could be a really good thing for him.”

 

“Meaning…?”

 

Matt sighed. “Have you happened to notice that all of the people Keith spends any amount of time with are sitting at this table?”

 

Lance thought about it. Keith grew up with Pidge and Matt, and he shared an apartment with Pidge. Lance and Hunk were the only others at game night, and the only person Keith talked to at the party was Lance. There was Shiro, but as far as Lance knew, he was just Keith's manager at work. 

 

“Point taken,” Lance nodded. 

 

“You're a social person and you like to branch out and try new things, hence your joining the fraternity, taking a painting class, and, I'm assuming here, dating a guy. Maybe that kind of force in Keith's life can help him out of his shell.” Matt searched the table for the pencil he'd set down. “I'm definitely not trying to put pressure on you. Keith's just sort of like my little brother, and I'd do anything to see him happy. Y’know?”

 

Memories of Marco and Veronica shepherding him through his middle school and high school troubles, and his hopes to help Luis and Rachel as they grew up made him smile. Lance could definitely understand that.

 

“I know.”

 

“I figured you'd get that,” Matt smiled. “Speaking of, didn't you say your family's from Florida? That's where the away game is this week, right?” Matt had returned to scratching notes into a spiral notebook as he read the biggest textbook Lance thought he'd ever seen. 

 

Lance nodded. “My aunt lives in Miami, but most of us have spread out. All of her kids are in the Orlando area if I remember correctly. I don't really talk much to that branch of the family though, so I probably won't see them while we're down there.”

 

_ At least I really hope not _ . 

 

The rest of Lance's classes dragged on into the afternoon. He didn't hate them, his education classes were actually really interesting to him, but he certainly had a serious case of the Mondays, especially when he found himself checking his phone for a text message that never came.

 

________________________________________

 

_ (16:24) Hey, I didn't freak you out earlier with the kiss and the nickname, did I? _

 

It was Lance. Keith had hoped he wouldn't notice the radio silence since that morning, but Lance seemed to be overly sensitive to changes in Keith's demeanor, even when they weren't together, apparently. Pidge was like that too, to an extent. 

 

(16:28) Definitely not :) it was unexpected, but in a good way

 

(16:30) What are you up to? 

 

_ (16:31) Okay, good :) And nothing much, no practice today so I'm headed home to have dinner with Allura and then we have pole class. You?  _

 

(16:33) Just finished working out, about to head into work. I close :/

 

(16:34) Hunk not having dinner with you guys? 

 

_ (16:36) Nah, he has a group project meeting _

 

_ (16:38) Do you work a lot?  _

 

(16:41) Usually at least 4 nights a week, sometimes more if I can make time. Besides class assignments I also have to do at least one independent art piece a week for each class sooo I'm in the art building a lot

 

_ (16:45) Wait wait wait. You're about to go into work at 5pm. And you close so you'll be off sometime after 2am. And you do that *at least* 4x a week??? That's practically full time! That's insane! _

 

(16:46) Haha yeah I know

 

_ (16:48) Why not just get loans or something so you don't have to work so much?  _

 

(16:55) I don't really do it because I need the money. I just feel like I should, y'know? Besides, I'd go stir crazy if I had too much free time lol

 

_ (16:57) I feel like you're using your free time improperly ;) _

 

(16:58) Well, maybe you should teach me better ways to use it ;)

 

_ (17:00) Aaaah, perhaps I should. I suppose I'll let you work without distractions. Text me any crazy delivery stories! Later, babe :) _

 

(17:01) Later, Lance :)

 

________________________________________

 

Over a light dinner, Lance told Allura mostly everything, from how Keith let him have the AUX cord to apparently falling asleep in Keith's bed after debating whether or not tacos could be categorized as a sandwich. He decided to skip over the awkwardness of this morning, instead divulging how absolutely stunned Keith was when Lance kissed him on the cheek at the cafe. Allura smiled broadly at him from the other side of the couch.

 

“So are you gonna ask him to be your boyfriend?”

 

“If he doesn't do it soon, I might explode, so maybe, but only for the sake of you and Hunk. I'd hate to blow you both up on accident.” Lance stood, taking his and Allura’s plates to the sink in the kitchen. 

 

They parted ways for a moment to run to their respective rooms to change clothes for class. Lance threw on his newest pair of black pole shorts and then dove into his slouchiest of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. They took Allura's car the few blocks to the studio, arriving just in time to cheer on the lower level class that met before them as they freestyled to finish off class time. Lance felt relief flood his muscles as he rolled out his yoga mat for the warm-up circuit their instructor had prepared for them. Things went as they always do until they split up into pairs to share the five poles in the room to practice reverse grabs. It was then that Allura noticed the tiny, light bruises along Lance's left collarbone as Lance tossed his shirt onto the futon couch in the back of the room. 

 

“It would seem,” Allura said playfully, “that you neglected to mention a few details from last night, Loverboy.”

 

He was setting up for a pass. “What are you talking about?” 

 

She pretended to think about it, unable to keep the smile off her face. “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve worked on anything to do with shoulder mounts in class.”

 

Lance plopped to the ground in the middle of his spin. They were right by the mirrors at the front of the room, so he quickly crawled over to get a better look. “Shit.”

 

Allura giggled behind him.

 

“He wasn't even being all that rough,” Lance muttered to her so he didn't disturb the rest of the class. He rubbed the area, finding that they didn't even really hurt. 

 

“Those lend to a bit more passionate ‘making out’ than I feel like you conveyed in your story,” she chuckled. 

 

He stuck his tongue out playfully at her from where he kneeled next to the mirror. 

 

“Alright,” the instructor began as she walked across the room to change the music, “let's do some freestyle! We'll do two groups so everybody can go. Which songs do you want?” 

 

Per usual everyone’s brains promptly blanked on every song they'd ever heard. 

 

“Wanna get him back?” Allura whispered. 

 

“I mean I'm pretty sure my actual words to him were ‘I don't even care, just don't stop,’ so it's half my fault…” The devious grin on her face stopped him. She was making her sexy-choreography-writing face. “Oh my God what are you thinking?”

 

“What Fall Out Boy song did you say was his alarm this morning?”

 

Allura promptly requested “Rat-A-Tat” and made her way back over to the futon, knowingly tossing Lance's shirt back to him and pulling his phone from his pants pocket.

 

“We're gonna send him a video.” She re-took her seat in front of their pole and leaned against the mirror. “You know the ‘let your teeth sink in,’ part?” 

 

Lance nodded, smiling conspiratorially, but nervous all the same. She tugged at her own shirt to demonstrate. 

 

“And don't forget to do your jade split, you bendy bitch!”

 

_____________________________________

 

(20:14)  _ [FILE RECEIVED] Downloading…  _

 

(20:16)  _ Hope you're having a good night at work ;) _

 

(20:18)   _ Download complete _

 

Keith was on his break back at the store when his phone notified him of the successful attempt to download a rather large file attached to the text message from Lance. Shiro happened to walk behind him to refill his own soda cup when a woman's voice shouting, “and don't forget your jade split, you bendy bitch!” blared through the phone speaker. 

 

“Jesus Christ,” Keith jumped, quickly turning the volume down, surprised less now by the outburst than by what he was watching unfold in the video. Shiro nearly dropped his cup. 

 

“Is that Lance?!” Shiro coughed.

 

Keith only nodded, mouth agape. Lance stepped lithely around a chrome pole in a darkened studio room as “Rat-A-Tat” began playing from somewhere off-screen. He took a few larger steps and swung his whole body around the pole, only attached to it with one hand above him and one placed palm up in a position Keith guessed would keep him from just falling into the pole. 

 

_ Are you ready for another bad poem? _

 

He spun down to the floor and landed gently on his knees.

 

_ One more off-key anthem? _

 

He looked at the camera.

 

_ Let your teeth sink in. _

 

Keith nearly dropped his phone as Lance tugged at the hem of his shirt and revealed a sliver of collarbone that had the faintest of bruising across it. 

 

“Yaaaahs Lance!” the voice behind the camera shouted. Lance smiled at her, laughing, and swung his body around the pole to stand up. He did a few tricks that Keith was fairly certain he would die trying to replicate, or at least dislocate several bones, but Keith was much more focused on Lance’s face. The joy radiated off of him. Even through a screen, it was contagious. Keith caught himself smiling too. 

 

“He’s… umm… flexible,” Shiro commented as the video ended. He shoved Keith lightly with his elbow.“And were those hickies!?” 

 

“Isn’t it an invasion of privacy to look over your subordinates’ shoulders at their personal devices while they’re on break?!” Keith glared at Shiro, but he couldn't quite summon the usual exasperation that colored his voice when Shiro was ribbing him.

 

“What are you, a vampire?” Shiro laughed. 

 

“Never heard that one before,” Keith rolled his eyes.

 

“Wait… Have you?!”

 

“Look at the time! My break’s over like, right now. Gotta get back on that pizza delivery thing, y’know…”

 

Keith pocketed his phone and reached for his delivery bags which were conveniently already filled with his next order, only to pull the device back out once he’d reached his car.

 

(20:25) HOLY SHIT ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME

 

_ (20:26) I was starting to worry I had :D _

 

(20:28) I just

 

(20:29) Wow 

 

(20:30) You look so happy

 

_ (20:31) I think you just broke Allura. She can’t believe THAT’S what you noticed lol _

 

_ (20:32) I am honestly also a little surprised, but in a good way. I guess we’re even now :P _

 

(20:33) Oh, don’t get me wrong. I noticed other things too ;) That was just the most important thing. 

 

_ (20:33) oi;nwe;afdshaoundjghbdfa _

 

_ (20:34) Okay, now I’m broken too _

 

(20:36) I dunno you look too bendy to break ;) Are you naturally that flexible? 

 

_ (20:37) Kinda? When I started training it, I advanced really quickly _

 

(20:39) Hmmm… noted ;)

 

_ (20:41) I am /this\ close to putting my elbows on the ground in a backbend.  _

 

(20:42) Omg that’s insane

 

_ (20:44) Maybe I’ll send you a picture? _

 

(20:46) NOT UNTIL I GET OFF WORK HOLY SHIT. Shiro might have seen the video… 

 

_ (20:47) WHAT? KEEEEEITH! _

 

(20:48) Sorry! I didn’t know what it was! He was incredibly impressed, if that makes you feel better.

 

_ (20:50) I suppose that's fair, next time I'll put NSFW ;P _

 

(20:51) Appreciate it <3

 

_ (20:52) Aaaaand broken again. The heart. I can’t. Gah.  _

 

_ (20:53) <3 <3 <3 _

 

(20:55) I should get back :/ Guess I'll talk to you tomorrow? 

 

_ (20:56) Aw alright. And definitely. Text me literally whenever you want. Bye, babe! _

 

(20:57) G’night Lance

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


His shift literally couldn’t end soon enough. By the time Keith was putting his key in the apartment door, he felt dead on his feet. Surprisingly, the apartment was dark and Pidge’s computer was at rest. He was able to power through a quick shower before essentially collapsing onto his bed, surrendering to what he hoped would be a restful few hours of sleep before his nine a.m. class.

 

But at 4:30am he sat bolt upright in bed gasping for air like a drowning man, drenched in sweat. He had to blink his eyes several times before he was able to focus on his surroundings.  _ Home, still dark, empty bed. _ Keith covered his face with his hands, counting his breaths and trying not to think too hard about whatever he’d been dreaming about.  _ I thought this was over… _

 

He knew better than to lay back down. Groaning internally, he dragged himself out of bed and searched for pants, being as quiet as possible to avoid waking Pidge. He grabbed a granola bar from the cabinet and headed for the art building.

 

They were working on still lifes in painting class, but Keith had already finished his so he decided to start an independent project. He grabbed a large canvas from his stock locker and got to work on his wash, his eyes still itching with lack of sleep.

 

When 7:00am rolled around, he packed up his supplies to head to the cafe across the street, shooting Pidge a message as he walked.

 

(7:12) Hey, coffee is in the filter, you just have to turn the pot on. Already left for campus.

 

_ (7:15) What on earth for?? _

 

(7:18) Wanted to get caught up on my still life before class starts, I’m a little behind.

 

_ (7:20) Cool. And thanks for the coffee <3 _

 

(7:21) Np <3

 

Keith got himself a caramel latte with an extra shot of espresso and relaxed in one of the comfy leather chairs in the back that were always taken whenever he came in. He pulled out his phone to see if Lance was awake.

 

(7:32) G’morning :)

 

_ (7:34) G’morning :) you’re up early _

 

(7:35) Haha :P I was having trouble sleeping so I figured I'd get some extra work done

 

_ (7:37) Aww that sucks :/ have you been up long?  _

 

(7:39) Ehh… a bit. No big deal though, this just happens sometimes :)

 

_ (7:39) Gotcha, well hopefully you can get some sleep tonight :) _

 

_ (7:40) Did anything interesting happen at work? _

 

(7:42) Nah, not really. A couple really drunk houses, but otherwise smooth sailing. Tips were good too 

 

_ (7:44) Nice! Hunk and I are reviewing for a quiz in our 8am class, and I have back-to-back lectures until 11am, but you wanna meet up at some point? _

 

(7:46) Painting class goes til noon, but after that I’m free until 2pm. I was gonna work on a drawing in the library if you wanna meet up there?

 

_ (7:49) That sounds perfect, I need to get some outlines done! Okay, Hunk is about to steal my phone I’ll talk to yoasdflasdfio _

 

(7:50) See you later :P

 

Keith felt himself struggling under the weight of his eyelids as he scrolled social media. He contemplated a quick nap in his chair, but squashed that notion almost immediately with a giant swig of his latte. He wasn't going to risk having a nightmare in public. 

 

_ Nope. Not happening again.  _

 

He pulled out a sketchbook and pencils to do a quick mock-up of the painting he'd started earlier, hoping to find a direction to take it. Right now it was just vague shapes and color experiments on a canvas. It would probably end up being mostly blues, but that was just because he found the color soothing. Definitely not for any other reasons. Nothing to read into there. 

 

At least, that's what Keith was going to keep telling himself. 

 

_______________________________________________________________

  
  


As Lance exited the auditorium after his final lecture of the morning, he wondered if he'd always feel this excited when he got to see Keith. He certainly hoped so. He made his way to the library to get started on drafting his first of several research paper outlines. Of most interest to him was his paper for his Experiencing Cultural Diversity in the United States course. He wanted to explore the correlations between students whose parents did not speak English to issues those students had in public education systems. He found a seat near the front entrance to the library so he could sit and watch for Keith. Every few sentences of the research paper he was reading, he noticed himself glancing at the door, even though he knew Keith had class for another hour. 

 

_ Focus, Lance… He'll be here in a little bit.  _

 

His anxiety started to bubble over, the words becoming harder and harder to read over the bouncing of one knee. Sitting still had never been easy for him, especially while waiting for company. Being by himself was worse. To distract himself, he plugged in his headphones and turned on a classical music playlist he'd prepared for such occasions. Lyrics distracted him from doing pretty much anything else with his brain. 

 

After what seemed like an eternity of highlighting, Lance's phone buzzed in his pocket. He couldn't seem to pull it out fast enough. Sadly it wasn't Keith, but his mother, which wasn't really sad at all. She wanted to know times and places for the away game this Saturday, which was a bit odd, since he knew there was no way she'd be able to make the trip, but he divulged the details anyway.

 

_ (11:34) ¿Recuerdas a tu primo, Nicolas? _

 

_ (Do you remember your cousin, Nicholas?) _

 

Lance felt his stomach drop.

 

(11:36) Sí, el hijo de la tía Maria. ¿Por qué?

 

(Yes, Aunt Maria’s son. Why?)

 

_ (11:39) El sorprendió a su madre con entradas para el partido de fútbol. Estarán en Gainesville el viernes antes del partido _

 

_ (He surprised his mom with tickets to the football game. They'll be in Gainesville on Friday before the game) _

 

_ (11:42) Ellos quieren cenar contigo _

 

_ (They want to have dinner with you) _

 

(11:43) No puedo. Apretada agenda.

 

(Can't. Busy schedule.)

 

No way. No way was Lance going to dinner with Aunt Maria and Nicolas. He thought he'd never see Nico again. Not after Aunt Maria’s divorce. He wouldn't honestly mind if it was just her… but Nico… he wasn't ready for that. The trouble was that his mom didn't know. Nobody did. And he wasn't about to tell them what Nicolas did to him. It was too late to do anything about it anyway. And he didn't want his mom to think it was her fault… 

 

Lance was so focused on his phone he didn't notice Keith until the other man plopped into the adjacent sofa chair, causing Lance to jump. 

 

“Sorry!” Keith whispered. “I didn't mean to scare you, I… are you okay?”

 

Lance sighed and put his phone away, managing a small smile in an attempt to ease the evident concern on Keith's face. “Not… not really, no. But I'm not sure what to do about it yet. Things are fine,” he added hastily when Keith's eyebrows furrowed together even further, “just some extended family drama I wasn't expecting.”

 

“Okay,” Keith exhaled, allowing his features to relax, and attempting a smile in return. “If you decide you wanna talk about it, I'd be happy to listen.”

Lance smiled gratefully in acknowledgement before eyeing the oversized black canvas bag Keith had lugged with him. “That's a big laptop bag.”

 

Keith burst out laughing. “It's a drawing bag, it has my sketchbooks and clipboard.”

 

Lance loved Keith's laugh, but he couldn't help but notice the dark circles lining his eyes or his pallid complexion. He suspected Keith had gotten less sleep than he was letting on. 

 

“Are  _ you _ okay? You look exhausted, babe.”

 

The corner of Keith's lip tugged upwards at the endearment, but he looked down before answering. Lance braced himself, wondering how much of the truth he was going to get. 

 

“Sometimes, when I'm under a lot of stress… I get really bad nightmares and don't sleep very well. I probably got about two hours last night.” 

 

Lance frowned.

 

“Does that happen a lot? Can I help? That sounds awful.”

 

Keith let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, it sucks. And thanks, but it's usually just something I have to ride out. It'll get better.”  _ Probably. _

 

“I hope so,” Lance smiled warmly, placing a hand on Keith's forearm. “Let's go somewhere you can sketch. Take your mind off of it. Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” he smiled back. “My spot is in the West Stacks. That way I can work on it whenever since there's no natural lighting.”

 

They gathered up their things and headed through a nearby door into what could only be called a fluorescent-lit dungeon. It had no similarities whatsoever to the brightly lit, modernly furnished library that occupied the rest of the building. The floors were concrete, the shelves were tan and metal, and there were weird caged alcoves with desks inside lining the walls at intervals.

 

“What are those even  _ for _ ?”

 

Keith chuckled. “Honestly I have no idea. They're all locked too, I don't know how you'd get in one even if you wanted to. And then, why would you want to?”

 

He led them up two floors and back into a corner away from any of the entrances. After glancing around for a moment, he appeared satisfied and sat down to begin unpacking his supplies. When he pulled out his enormous clipboard and removed the protective sheet from his work-in-progress, Lance audibly gasped. 

 

“Holy crow, Keith! That's incredible!”

 

Keith blushed, gently pushing Lance's face away. “It's not finished yet!”

 

“Could've fooled me! It looks like a photo! How long did this take you?” Lance kept a respectable distance from the sketchboard, but repositioned himself so that he could line up Keith's drawing to the library itself. This inadvertently placed his face right next to Keith's.

 

“Umm… maybe ten hours?” He pulled a set of charcoal from a pouch in his bag. “Not all at once,” he amended hastily when Lance's eyes widened. Lance was still taking in all the detail on the page in front of him, so he was quite taken aback when Keith casually leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “You're cute.”

 

Lance blushed furiously. 

 

“Not fair, you caught me off guard!”

 

Keith chuckled, relaxing against the wall behind them. 

 

“Only getting even,  _ babe _ .” He elbowed Lance lightly. “Though I think I still owe you one more for that video.”

 

“You liiiked it,” Lance teased, pulling out the papers he'd been reading before. 

 

“Not denying that,” Keith mumbled. 

 

They worked in companionable silence for about thirty minutes before Lance noticed Keith's hand had stopped shading. When he glanced over, Keith's eyes were barely open. He set his own work down and reached for the charcoal, an incoherent grumble protesting its removal from Keith's fingers. 

 

“You're half-asleep, babe. It's okay. Just rest a while, I'll stay here and wake you up for class.”

 

Lance reached up and combed Keith's hair from his face with his fingers. 

 

“That's nice,” Keith sighed, laying his head on Lance's shoulder. “You smell good.”

 

“Sleep, Keith. I got you.”


	8. McDonald's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: More bad coping mechanisms, disordered eating, talk of triggers and description of triggered state, anxiety. 
> 
> Content warning: Please give feedback on whether or not the rating needs to be upped thank yooouuu

Keith woke up to Lance's fingers gently brushing his hair back from his face. 

 

“Mmm?”

 

“Time to wake up, babe,” Lance's voice was apologetic. 

 

Lance was sitting with his legs crossed with an open book on his left side. Keith was curled up with his head on Lance's other leg. 

 

“Did you sleep okay?”

 

“Mhmm. You're comfy.”

Lance chuckled, bouncing Keith's head lightly on his knee.

 

“Glad to hear it. Are you gonna be okay for class?”

 

“Possibly. Wish I could stay here for a while longer,” he sighed wistfully, pushing himself to a sitting position.

 

“Me too,” Lance agreed. “Maybe you should call into work so you can try to get some more rest tonight. I'm sure Shiro would prefer you not driving around like this. I know I would,” he added, his forehead wrinkled with worry.

 

Keith attempted a convincing smile. “I'll be okay. Besides, I've driven further with less sleep.”

 

Lance quirked an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

 

“Did it not work?” Keith sighed. “I'll be fine. Really.” He carefully packed away his supplies. “Don't worry so much.”

 

“Haha, have you met me?” Lance stood and offered his hand to help Keith up. When the artist rose to eye level he pulled Lance in for a quick, but grateful kiss. 

 

“I have,” he smirked. The return of said roguish grin made Lance relax a bit. Perhaps Keith really was okay.

 

____________________________________________________

  
  


Keith was not okay. 

 

He usually found his psychology class fascinating, but  _ this _ was just insulting. Of course today’s lecture was titled “The Effects of Sleep Deprivation.”

 

“Un-fucking-believable…” he muttered, slouching in his chair.

 

“There are several clear side effects that occur when the brain is deprived of rest,” the professor lectured. Keith was barely paying attention. Even though there was no way for it to be possible, he couldn't help feeling like this lecture was directed specifically at him. And he was taking it personally. “...irritability is common in those experiencing sleep deprivation…”  _ No fucking shit. _

 

Keith lowered his forehead to his desk, resisting the urge to start beating his head against it in frustration. If this class didn’t count attendance he would’ve left the moment the first slide went up.

 

(14:14) Why did you make me leave the library again?

 

_ (14:16) Haha, that bad? _

 

(14:17) The worst.

 

_ (14:20) You’ll live ;P  _

 

_ (14:22) You’re cute when you sleep btw :3 _

 

(14:23) I guess that makes two of us :P

 

_ (14:25) I feel like I'm distracting you ;P _

 

(14:26) I prefer being distracted by you

 

_ (14:29) Uh huh :P Well unfortunately for you, a student just walked into the tutoring center so I have to go :/ _

 

(14:30) Wait, you can't drop an interesting nugget of information like that and not tell me more! What do you tutor? 

 

_ (14:32) I promise I will tell you more about it later, go pay attention to your class :P Later, babe _

 

Keith groaned internally, refocusing his heavy eyes on the ironic PowerPoint at the front of the auditorium. 

 

Mercifully, the class ended a few minutes early. His shift didn't start for another couple hours, so he decided to kill some time by walking to the commuter lot instead of taking the bus. It was about a mile and a half walk from the far side of campus, and in the thirty-five minutes it took him to trudge all the way to his car he was almost hit by two bicycles, three cars, and a bus. After the third close call, he vowed to never walk on campus again. 

 

The exhaustion set in as he buckled his seatbelt. He decided to run by the apartment for a quick bite to eat as he realized he'd napped through his lunch break. That'd give him the chance at more coffee too before he had to go deliver pizza all night. He made it home with little incident. The Holts were at band rehearsal right now, so the apartment was quiet. That wasn't going to do. He set up his portable speaker and blared classic rock from the kitchen counter, his left hand moving along against his awaiting coffee mug to where his fingers would be on the fretboard of his guitar through “Carry on Wayward Son” by Kansas. He threw a sandwich together with one hand, not daring to let the ceramic vessel of his current life force leave his grip until it was filled. 

 

He hadn't realized how hungry he'd been until he took a bite, though at the same time the tendrils of sleep pulling his mind toward the couch for a nap almost convinced him to put the sandwich down. 

 

_ No no no. No sleeping. Not before work.  _

 

He downed the coffee still in his mug and leaned heavily against the counter, rubbing his eyes. If he could just make it through his shift, maybe he'll be too tired to dream tonight. That made sense, right?

 

Against better judgement he might've had if he wasn't so damn tired, Keith poured and drank a second cup of coffee as he finished the clumsily made sandwich. He changed into his work uniform lazily, awaiting a relief from the caffeine that never came. Instead, as he should have probably anticipated with as little food as he'd eaten today, his fingers began to twitch. He rolled his eyes at himself.  _ Perfect.  _

 

The drive to work was hectic. The rush of college students driving home from campus was in full swing and to make matters worse, someone had failed to yield and sideswiped a car crossing the intersection  _ right _ in front of the shop. He reached for his turn signal to try to go around when the sound of a fire engine registered in his ears, much too suddenly for him to prepare for it. As it approached, his anxiety skyrocketed. 

 

_ It's just coming for the accident. It's not a fire. Dad is not on that truck.  _

 

By the time he'd navigated around the damaged cars and enraged drivers, Keith was exactly on time for work. He clocked in, mentally willing his hands to stop shaking and picked up his first order. The nice part of this job at least was that he could blast music in his car during runs.

 

At 7:00pm Shiro came in to run the closing shift. Keith was able to avoid him for an hour or so, since it was an unusually busy night for a Tuesday and they were light on drivers, but that only lasted so long.

 

“Hey Keith! You've been keeping busy, I haven't seen you since I got here. You…” Shiro paused, his smile faltering, “look like Hell, are you okay?”

 

He tried to force a smile but was pretty sure he wasn't fooling anyone anymore, given that he'd gotten two hours of sleep in close to forty-eight hours. “Just been busy, you know how it goes.”

 

“Yeah right, you look like me after an all-nighter. You should probably be at home, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be driving.”

 

“I'll be fine, I'm caffeinated. Besides it's too busy and it's almost eight, the real rush is getting ready to start.”

 

Shiro waved away his protests, not having any of it. “I'll worry about running the shift. That's your last run, clock out when you get back.”

 

After he did as Shiro instructed he sat in his car, clenching and unclenching his hands on the wheel. He was beyond exhausted, but fairly certain his heart would explode if he didn't get his energy out somehow. Trying to focus on the rapid beat against his sternum instead of the turmoil in his head, he double checked that his workout bag was in the backseat and set a course for campus. 

 

_______________________________________________________

 

“Don't you  _ dare _ ,” Pidge warned as Matt lined up to shoot his straw wrapper off the end of his straw and into her ketchup. 

 

“Whatchya gonna do about it, Pidgey?” 

 

“Your end will be so swift and certain that you won't even realize what happened.”

 

“Try me,” Matt challenged, taking a deep breath.

 

“You're about to start a food fight in the middle of McDonald’s at nine thirty on a Tuesday night. You might want to reevaluate whether or not you can outrun the angry mob of fast food workers before you proceed,” Lance laughed as he joined them at the table with his fries. They had been studying at Pidge and Keith's apartment since band practice let out. Between Allura cramming for a quiz tomorrow morning and Hunk meeting up with his fellow group project victims every night this week, Lance needed somewhere a little less intense to draft his research papers. The free entertainment that was the Holt siblings picking on each other was an added bonus. 

 

The McDonald's run was Matt's idea. He had insisted upon it when he searched for ice cream in the freezer only to learn Lance and Keith had polished off the remainder of Keith's stash Sunday night. And Pidge could always go for some nuggets. 

 

“Matt, why did you even get a straw? You ordered a McFlurry.” As Lance asked, he noticed several more straws laying not-so-innocuously beside Matt on the bench of the booth. Matt answered with the paper wrapper shooting through the air and hitting its mark square in the middle of Pidge’s forehead. 

 

“Maaaatt,” Pidge growled.

 

“What?” he asked innocently, preparing more ammunition. 

 

As she readied a spoon to catapult a nugget in his general direction, her phone pinged. 

 

“Don't even,” Matt warned, but she stopped to pull up the message from Shiro. 

 

_ (21:36) Hey, did Keith make it home okay? He was really worrying me… _

 

(21:37) What do you mean? 

 

“Matt, stop for a sec.” The sudden change in her previously playful demeanor quickly subdued her brother. 

 

_ (21:40) I sent him home around 8pm, he looked dead on his feet. Not sure how he managed to stay awake as long as it looks like he has.  _

 

“Hey Lance, have you talked to Keith at all today?”

 

Lance looked surprised. “Yeah, why?”

 

“Was he being weird at all?”

 

“We hung out in the library earlier. He was gonna sketch, but he was so tired he ended up just napping for an hour or so. Why?” Her worried glance to her brother made his heart drop to his stomach. “Is he okay?”

 

“Matt,” Pidge instructed, somehow without actually conveying any action to be taken. Matt pulled out his phone and dialed.

 

(21:43) He didn't come home. We're at McDonald's. We're headed home now. If he shows up at the shop call me. I'll keep you posted. 

 

“Pidge?” Lance's eyes were wide. 

 

“We need to get back to the apartment.”

 

“Keith?” Matt's voice was timid, like he wasn't quite sure what to expect when Keith answered. “Where you at, man?”

 

He nodded at Pidge and they stood, Pidge collecting hers and Lance's food and Matt's ice cream before heading up to the counter. 

 

Lance followed Matt in a daze to the car. 

 

_ What is going on? Is Keith okay?  _

 

Pidge joined Lance in the backseat shortly holding two bags. “Let's go.”

 

“Will someone please enlighten me as to what the fuck is going on?!” Lance whisper-shouted to keep his voice from carrying to the phone Matt still held to one ear.

 

“Calm down, no one is hurt,” Pidge began, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Shiro sent Keith home at eight because he looked exhausted, but obviously he didn't come back to the apartment because we left for McDonald's after nine. He's there now though.”

 

“Okay, but why is this such a big deal? I mean I understand being concerned, but…”

 

“We're almost home, okay? See you in a minute.” Matt hung up the phone and glanced at Lance as he backed his car out of the parking spot. “Did Keith mention anything about having trouble sleeping?”

 

“Umm… yeah. Yeah, he said he gets nightmares when he's really stressed but that it wasn't a big… deal…” he trailed off as Pidge’s brow furrowed deeper with consternation. “Why are you looking at me like that, what's going on?”

 

“Keith doesn't get nightmares when he's stressed,” Matt responded quietly. “He gets them when he's triggered.”

 

“Does it happen often?” Lance looked a mix of worried and, somehow, irritated.

 

“It's been years,” Pidge answered softly. 

 

The irritation won out. “I don't believe this. I cannot  _ believe _ he told me this wasn't a big deal.”

 

“I know you're upset, but try to go easy on him.” Matt pulled into the apartment complex. They climbed the stairs silently. Pidge unlocked the door and entered first, food bags in hand. 

 

Keith sat cross-legged on the couch in a baggy t-shirt and boxer briefs, face mostly buried in a pillow from his bed. The only light came from the bathroom. His hair was still damp from a shower, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw Lance file in after Matt. 

 

“Where'd you go?” Pidge asked quietly, placing the bags on the coffee table and settling herself on the floor. Matt went over to the TV.

 

Keith's voice was muffled. “Gym.”

 

It must've been a cold shower, if the slight shiver he tried to subdue was any indication. Lance looked to Pidge for permission before crossing the room and dropping to his knees in front of him, concern taking over all other feelings he might have had at that moment. Keith watched him with  uncertainty as he reached out and laid a hand gently over one of Keith's balled fists. 

 

“You okay?”

 

Keith avoided his eyes, shrugging. 

 

“Can I sit with you?” Keith nodded, still looking unsure. Even in the dim lighting as Lance crawled onto the sofa, he could tell the lack of sleep was taking a huge toll. “Have you eaten today?”

 

“Umm… I had a granola bar this morning. Made a sandwich before work…” he trailed off as if expecting a harsh rebuke. 

 

Lance pressed himself close to Keith, laying an arm behind him on the back of the couch in the hope that Keith might relax a little back into him. He was almost catatonic the way he sat rigidly with his hands fisted in his pillowcase. His eyes weren't focused on anything. Pidge pushed the paper bags on the coffee table towards them. Nodding to her, Lance reached a tentative hand over to touch one of Keith's, slowly loosening its grip on the fabric. When he'd finished smoothing the last of the tension from Keith's fingers, he went to work on the other hand, applying the same gentle pressure.

 

Once that was done he reached for the bags. One had his and Pidge's food, and the other had two McChickens and a large fry. He set the latter on Keith's knees and pulled his fries out of the former before tossing it back to Pidge. Matt finished getting Netflix loaded and pulled up a random episode of 30 Rock.

 

“Can you try to eat a little?” Lance asked quietly when Keith still hadn't moved. 

 

Keith nodded again, taking the bag and slowly lowering his feet to the floor. He took a small bite from one of the sandwiches and turned his attention to the TV. Lance snacked on his own food with his free hand while the other absentmindedly stroked Keith's hair where it fell over the nape of his neck. 

 

He kept mulling over what Matt had said in the car. If Keith hasn't had nightmares for years, and they only happen when they're triggered, that had to mean that something pretty traumatic happened, right? And they must've started up in the last couple days because it seemed like whenever they happened Keith would rather force himself to stay awake than endure them, if his current state was any indication. But what could've happened in the last couple days to cause them to…

 

The realization rolled over Lance like a colossal wave, followed by a sensation of numbness that swept through him like ice.  _ He _ had happened. That had to be it. Keith hadn't been anxious and sleep deprived when they'd met, and they'd only started seeing more of each other the past weekend. Lance must've done something, but Keith was too polite to say so. Was his presence even wanted? Should he leave? 

 

Lance was contemplating the best way to painlessly extricate himself from the couch when he realized that Keith's head had fallen onto his shoulder at some point and he was lightly snoring. He had eaten one of the chicken sandwiches and most of the fries, and his brow was smooth with untroubled dreams. Lance couldn't help but smile down at him, though the idea that he might be the one causing Keith pain sent a dagger into his heart. Matt chose that moment to come to Lance's ear behind the couch. 

 

“We should probably try to get him to his bed, he'll sleep better there.” Lance nodded and ran a gentle hand through Keith's hair, pushing it back from his face and wondering if he would get to again.

 

“Hey sleepyhead, let's get you to bed.”

 

“Hmm?” Keith didn't open his eyes. 

 

“Keeeith,” Lance called softly. 

 

Keith snuggled closer to Lance, curling his fingers into his shirt. 

 

“Stay?” Keith mumbled. His voice sounded raw, almost afraid.

 

“Y-you  _ want _ me to stay the night?”

 

Keith nodded. 

 

“Alright, c’mon babe.” Lance helped Keith off the couch, grabbing the pillow that slid to the floor as he did so. Still holding Keith's hand Lance led them back to Keith's room where the other man roughly pulled his shirt over his head and unceremoniously threw himself onto the bed.

 

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” Lance asked hesitantly as he perched on the edge of the mattress. 

 

“Do… you not want to?” Keith’s voice was quiet. 

 

“No no no that's not what I mean, of course I  _ want _ to…”

 

“Then what's wrong?” Keith pushed himself up to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes. 

 

“It just… kinda seems like  _ I'm _ the reason you've been having nightmares - I mean you weren't like this when we met…”

 

“No, that's… I mean it's  _ part _ of it, but it's not… the _ whole _ story,” he avoided Lance's eyes. “You make things better. Everything's better when you're around…”

 

“Wait… what? Really? But I… you…”

 

Keith crawled on his knees to the edge of the bed next to Lance. 

 

“Lance, the only meaningful sleep I've had in two days has been next to you. Come to bed. Please?” Keith tugged on Lance's shirt for emphasis. 

 

Lance placed a hand gently on Keith's cheek and brushed his lips against his forehead.

 

“Yeah. Okay. Here, lay down.” After standing to shuck his own shirt and jeans to the floor, leaving his phone on the nightstand, Lance arranged himself so that Keith could snuggle in tight against his chest. “Good?”

 

“Mhmm.” Keith bit down hard on his own lip. “Lance?”

 

“Yeah babe?”

 

“Could we just do this all the time?”

 

Lance's heart nearly burst as it stuttered in his chest. “What do you mean?”

 

“Would you… can we date?”

 

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Keith glanced up at Lance in the dark. “You just… I can't explain it really. Maybe this is dumb and it's too soon and if that's how you feel then that's okay, but yeah… that's where I'm at. Sometimes Pidge can't even do what you just did… it's probably totally selfish of me, but…”

 

Lance cut him off with a kiss.

 

“Yes.” He threaded his fingers through Keith's hair, unable to keep the ecstatic smile from his face. “I want that. We can date.”

 

Keith grinned back before laying his head back down on Lance's chest and tightening his embrace. “Yay.” 

 

This was not the turn of events Lance was expecting. He laid there for a while just enjoying the feeling of Keith next to him, still gently caressing his hair, when he realized Hunk and Allura would probably murder him if he didn't let them know he wasn't coming home again. He grabbed his phone to shoot a quick text in their group chat. 

 

(22:24) Hey wanted to let you guys know that I'm staying at my boyfriend's place tonight so I won't be home :)

 

The response was swift. 

 

(22:25) Allura Alfor: I'M SORRY WHAT 

 

(22:25) Allura Alfor: YOUR WHAT

 

(22:27) Hunk Garrett: Thanks for the heads up :) happy for you btw <3

 

(22:27) Allura Alfor: WE ARE DISCUSSING THIS TOMORROW <3 <3 <3

 

Lance chuckled to himself and set an alarm for 7:30am before setting his phone back down, making a mental note to find his spare charger. He curled in closer to Keith, feeling happier than he'd felt in a long time. 

 

__________________________________________________

  
  


Lance awoke to a rather uncomfortable tingling pain in the tips of his fingers. When he peeked over at Keith, he realized he'd turned just enough in his sleep for his head to fall off of Lance's shoulder and onto his upper arm. He tried to shift gently so that he didn't wake Keith, but as soon as he lifted Keith's head, his eyes blinked open, taking a moment to focus in the still-dark room. 

 

“Hey,” Lance smiled down at him. “Mind if I have my arm back?”

 

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Keith allowed Lance to pull his arm out from behind his neck. “What time is it?”

 

Lance turned on his side to checked his phone. 

 

“Six-forty. Still have almost an hour,” Lance whispered, yawning. 

 

“Mmm, good,” Lance felt Keith’s arm slide over his waist as Keith breathed  _ onto the back of Lance's neck _ . He peppered ghosts of kisses across Lance's shoulders and up the side of his neck to his ear, causing Lance to giggle softly.

 

“Somebody's more awake than I thought they'd be.” 

 

“Well, you see,” Keith’s voice was a low rumble in his chest, “there’s an unreasonably attractive man in my bed. How could I  _ not _ want to kiss him?”

 

Lance turned over on his back, his outside leg propped up and one arm lazily falling above his head as he looked up at Keith. “Yeah, I can see how that’s a serious prob-”

 

Keith placed one gentle hand on the side of Lance’s neck as he leaned down to cover Lance’s mouth with his own. The other man arched upwards, and Keith felt an arm come around his shoulders, pulling him in even deeper until he was all but on top of Lance. The kisses were exploratory at first, but quickly took on an unexpected sense of urgency as the two men pressed ever closer to each other. Keith allowed the hand on Lance’s neck to slide down the other man’s body, coming to a rest on his side just below his hip. When Lance made a pleasurable sound under his lips, he squeezed experimentally, eliciting a soft moan. Emboldened, he squeezed harder, pulling Lance’s leg so he was pressed against the side of Keith’s hip, and causing Lance’s head to fall back as a deep rumble escaped his chest. Keith seized the opportunity to place his lips on Lance’s neck, lightly grazing his teeth against the soft skin there. Lance melted against him.

 

Gauging Lance’s reaction, Keith tentatively hooked a finger through the waistband of Lance’s boxers. In response, Lance pressed himself against Keith’s hip again, winding his fingers through Keith’s hair. Keith pulled back to get a good look at the other man’s face, but hands immediately dragged him back down to Lance’s mouth. He threw one leg over Lance’s body so he was straddling him, pressing his chest against Lance and pinning the hand that wasn’t still tugging at his hair while his other hand found Lance’s cheek. 

 

Keith pulled away to make eye-contact with Lance, a devious smirk gracing his face. 

 

“Don't wake up Pidge,” he whispered before dipping his head to continue kissing and biting at Lance's chest, careful to avoid tickling him by accident. He lightly trailed his tongue down Lance’s abdomen, watching with amusement as Lance bit his lip to keep from making too much noise. He pressed his lips against the hollow of the other man’s hip, and Lance groaned, bucking slightly.

 

“Do you want me to go down on you?” Keith asked, his fingers toying with Lance’s waistband again.

 

“Dios mio, sí,” Lance breathed, bringing his own hand to his mouth to bite down on his knuckle.

 

Keith grinned, slowly pulling the elastic down past Lance’s knees, lightly nipping the inside of his thigh as he did so. When Lance allowed his legs to fall open, he deliberately ran his hands along them, kissing and then blowing hot air in the same spot, teasing him relentlessly just so he could watch Lance writhe with pleasure.

 

When he finally placed his lips on Lance, the other man audibly gasped, attempting to strangle the noise only somewhat successfully. 

 

“Mierda…”

 

Keith took all of him at once, gently stroking with his tongue while his hands massaged the sensitive areas on Lance’s thighs. Lance roughly wound his free hand into Keith’s hair, pulling insistently.

 

“No pares…” Lance’s voice was pleading. His entire body was arched and his face was practically buried in one of the pillows. Suddenly, his entire body convulsed as a half-smothered moan erupted from his chest, his fist tightening on Keith’s hair before going slack as the rest of his body sank back into the bed. Keith gently released him and crawled back up to lay next to him. Lance immediately curled into him, placing his cheek on Keith’s chest while Keith smiled, pulling his fingers through Lance’s hair. 

 

“Wow. That was… wow… words… can't… wait…” Lance propped himself up on his elbows. “Did you? You didn't have to…”

 

Keith shrugged, “I don't mind it. And it's easier cleanup.” He winked.

 

Lance blushed, laying his head back down and drawing invisible circles on Keith’s stomach, inching lower with each repetition. 

 

“Hey,” Keith said quietly, “just so you know, you are under no obligation to reciprocate.”

 

Lance felt his nerves ease a bit at that as he determinedly maintained his course. 

 

“Just, uh, tell me if it's bad,” Lance grinned as he beat back the self-consciousness creeping at the edges of his mind. He timidly brushed his palm over Keith, encouraged as the man under him strained up into his hand, eyes closing as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. Lance repeated the motion, this time slipping his hand beneath the waistband of Keith’s boxer-briefs first. Keith turned slightly into him, searching for his mouth and moaning into the kiss. Spurred on by the enthusiastic response, Lance wove his fingers into Keith’s hair again, pulling to the side to get a better angle at his neck, experimentally grazing it with his teeth. 

 

“Harder,” Keith gasped.

 

Lance did as he was bid, enjoying the growl he heard deep in Keith’s chest. Hit with sudden inspiration, he threw his body to the side so he was on top, straddling Keith’s hips and pinning his hands above his head. He kissed him deeply, relishing the amount of control he had, before whispering in Keith’s ear.

 

“Mmm, maybe I’ll give you a lap dance sometime…”

 

“Wait, you really do that?’

 

“What?” Lance laughed.

 

“Never mind,” Keith shook his head. 

 

Lance rolled his hips, savoring the way Keith writhed under him in search of more friction. 

 

“Mmmmf, you are having entirely too much fun doing that…”

 

Lance put his lips back at Keith’s ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

 

“God, no,” he stifled another moan.

 

“That’s what I thought,” Lance’s voice was smug as he slowly began sliding himself down Keith’s body, kissing and caressing every inch of him as he went. He quickly removed the last article of clothing between them, and lightly raked his fingers over one of Keith’s hips while softly nipping at the other. 

 

“Note to self,” Keith’s breathing was shallow, “tease Lance more next time as payback.”

 

Lance grinned, using one of his hands to gently stroke Keith, causing him to have to bite his lip to keep quiet. 

 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Lance asked playfully.

 

When Keith was about to respond, Lance rested his mouth on Keith before slowly taking him an inch at a time.

 

“Mmmmmmf fuck,” Keith arched, pulling at his own hair. Lance continued to slowly pleasure him, watching Keith struggle to keep from making noise. Before long, Keith tried to speak again.

 

“Lance, you might want to stop… you are… unreasonably good at that…” he choked out.

 

Understanding what he meant, Lance ignored him, instead increasing his speed. Keith shuddered, biting hard on his arm to muffle his gasps as he finished. 

 

Sitting up, Lance managed a contorted smile at Keith, the embarrassment on his face a bit more prevalent than he would've liked. 

 

“Gah, here, sorry,” Keith panted, grabbing the small trash can next to the nightstand. Lance raised his hands to convey to Keith that he didn't need to apologize. He spat into the trash can and smiled cheekily up at Keith. 

 

“So, I’m guessing I didn't do too bad for my first try at that?”

 

“I would say not,” Keith chuckled, setting the trash can back on the floor. He lifted a hand to Lance's face and brushed his cheek lightly. “Good morning, boyfriend.”

 

“Mmm, g’morning,” Lance laid back down next to Keith, snuggling close.

 

“That's really the first time you've given a blow job?”

 

Lance blushed, burying his face in Keith’s shoulder. “You might be the second person I’ve done sexual things with ever… and the first man, soo…”

 

“Oh,” Keith said quietly. “Is this okay? I don’t want to push you…”

 

“This is  _ more _ than okay. I just… you seem to have a lot more experience, I don’t want you to be… disappointed or anything…”

 

Keith pulled him in close, kissing him gently and stroking his hair. “Please don’t worry about that. I have a feeling you couldn’t disappoint me if you tried.”

 

“Good to know,” Lance murmured into Keith's skin. “That really means a lot to me, Keith. I appreciate it. I actually… uh… I thought you asked me to be your boyfriend in a state of sleep deprived delusion last night.”

 

Keith was quiet for a moment. “I meant what I said, but I do feel like I owe you an explanation. It’s not fair to not tell you, but is it okay if we talk about it later? Still today, but later?”

 

“Whenever you want. It's okay, I honestly just wanted to know it was real. I want to know more about last night, I guess. But not until you're comfortable. We have time. In the meantime,” Lance checked his phone, “my phone goes off in six minutes.”

 

Keith groaned, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Well, if I had to lose sleep, I can’t say I’m sorry that’s the way it happened.”

 

“Fuck it. Let's just stay here all day. No class. I'll tell my section leader I'm sick. Text Shiro. Not moving.” Lance covered his face with one arm. 

 

“Literally no one will buy that,” Keith laughed. “Besides, I don’t want to be a bad influence on you…”

 

“Mmm… too late for that, Mullet.” Lance breathed up Keith's neck. He laughed as the other man shivered. 

 

Keith quickly retaliated by throwing himself on top of Lance, pinning him. “Well, when you put it that way…” Keith kissed him deeply.

 

Immediately, Lance’s alarm began blaring. “Wake up in the morning feelin’ like P. Diddy…”

 

“Uuuuugggghhhhhhhhhhh…” Lance groaned against Keith’s mouth.

 

After a few moments, there was a thud against the wall. 

 

“Keith, I swear to fucking God…”

 

“No worries Pidge, I'm up,” Keith laughed from atop Lance. 

 

“Then  _ turn the fucking alarm off _ !”

 

Keith reached over and slid a finger across the phone screen before leaning in for another kiss and laying down next to Lance again. He gently teased one hand through the other man's hair, enjoying the softness between his fingers and the way Lance felt snuggled against his chest. “I really like having you here,” he said quietly. 

 

Lance craned his neck to softly brush his lips against Keith's jaw. “I really like being here.”

 

“You want to take a shower? I'll make breakfast while you're in there.”

 

“Uh, yeah, that'll save me some time. Thanks, babe.” 

 

Keith got up, threw on a pair of shorts, and slipped into the hallway while Lance located his clothing. When he returned he had a maroon towel, a washcloth, and a still-packaged toothbrush in his arms. 

 

“It's fairly obvious which shower stuff is mine. The shower gets really hot, so wait a few minutes before you get in. You like oatmeal?”

 

“What kind?”

 

“I have a few different ones. Brown sugar?”

 

“Perfect,” Lance nodded, meeting him in the doorway. As he took the supplies from Keith, he leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. “Thank you.”

 

Keith shook his head, a sad but grateful smile pulling at his mouth. 

 

“I should be the one thanking you.”

 

“Why don't I thank both of you for killing me swiftly instead of subjecting me to this adorable torture?” 

 

They both jumped at Matt's voice. He peeked sleepily over the back of the couch down the hallway at them.

 

“You didn't have to stay, too,” Keith mumbled, rolling his eyes. 

 

“We both know I did,” Matt yawned. “Glad you're feeling better.” Matt pushed his glasses up on his nose and snorted as they came farther down the hallway. “Jesus Christ, I thought  _ Keith _ was the bitey one!”

 

Lance and Keith's eyes both widened and Keith's hand came to rest over the side of his neck where he vaguely remembered encouraging Lance to bite him. 

 

“Oh my God I'm so sorry,” Lance started immediately. Keith stepped into the bathroom. “If you want to come to my place Allura might be able to cover it up. I don't know if any of her makeup is light enough, but it's worth asking.”

 

Keith laughed as he inspected the bruise darkening where his neck met his shoulder. 

 

“Babe it's fine. I'm not worried about it.”

 

“But…” Lance was silenced by a gentle hand on his cheek. 

 

“If anyone has a problem with it, I'll just tell them to take it up with my boyfriend,” Keith winked. It was, of course, that exact moment that Pidge stumbled by the restroom on her morning expedition to the coffee maker. 

 

Both Holt siblings shouted in unison. 

 

“What?!”

 

Keith rolled his eyes. 

 

“I'll deal with them. You go ahead and take a shower.” He hip bumped Lance before exiting the bathroom and shutting the door. “Alright, alright calm down.” 

 

Lance examined his face in the mirror for a few moments and listened to the voices teasing Keith in the living room. 

 

_ Boyfriend… Yeah I like that _ . 

 

A warmth radiated through his chest at the thought, tinged only slightly by the doubt in the pit of his stomach. His parents weren't going to like this, but he'd have to tell them eventually, right? Sighing, he packed that away to deal with later. For now, he'd settle for letting himself enjoy the novelty of taking a shower in his boyfriend's apartment. 


	9. Hunk's Spaghetti

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: homophobia (band rehearsal scene), general anxiety
> 
>  
> 
> Hi friends! We are so grateful for all of you lovely people and your continued support of this fic. You are all honestly awesome and we are continually in shock that so many people are subscribed and come back to read our updates every week. 
> 
> The boys have already had a rough start, and it certainly isn't going to get easier, so fair warning: there will be angst.

While Lance was towelling off after his shower, he could hear voices talking quietly in the living room. It took him a few seconds of straining his ears before he realized he probably shouldn’t be listening in to that particular conversation.

 

“-gonna explain it to him?”

 

“I’m gonna try… not really sure how he’s gonna react though…you guys know I wouldn’t do that again, right?”

 

“We weren’t really sure how to react because it seemed like things had gotten so bad so fast. You gotta talk to us, man.”

 

“It shouldn’t be your problem, I should have this figured out already…”

 

“Keith, we’re family… you don’t have to do everything alone.”

 

Lance turned on the water in the sink to brush his teeth, trying to subtly make more noise than necessary so he didn’t awkwardly walk in on the tail end of their discussion. He believed Keith when he said they would talk about it later, he didn’t want to push Keith’s boundaries or make him think Lance didn’t trust him.

 

When he came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Keith and Matt were in the kitchen arguing over which flavor of oatmeal was the best, and Pidge was cradling her coffee while staring at her computer screen. Keith handed him a bowl of oatmeal. 

 

“Pfft, brown sugar,” Matt scoffed. 

 

“It's the best kind!” Keith groaned.

 

“Blasphemy,” Matt argued. “Apple Cinnamon is clearly superior.”

 

“I like both,” Lance added unhelpfully as both of them sighed in mock exasperation. Lance chuckled, spooning into his bowl. “Pidge?”

 

“Doesn't like oatmeal,” Keith and Matt answered for her with disdain. 

 

“Coffee is all I need,” Pidge defended from across the room. 

 

As they chatted, Keith put away the ingredients he'd used for breakfast. When he'd finished eating, Lance rinsed his bowl out in the sink. It was then that Keith's arms wrapped around his waist and he rested his chin on his shoulder. Smiling, Lance ran a hand through Keith's hair. 

 

“Last chance to be a bad influence,” Lance laughed. 

 

“Tempting.” He pressed a kiss into Lance's neck. 

 

“PDA! PDA!” Matt shouted, chucking a pillow at them from the couch.

 

“Why are you still  _ here _ ,” Keith hissed over his shoulder. 

 

Turning in Keith's arms, Lance hugged him. 

 

“I should get going. Text me later?”

 

“Y-yeah.” Keith squeezed him back gently. 

 

“Also, we need to discuss your 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, body wash situation.”

 

Pidge burst out laughing.

 

“Isn't it  _ terrible _ ?”

 

“Definitely not great for your hair,” Lance chuckled. Keith was unamused, but figured he could forgive Lance this time as a light kiss was pressed to his lips. “Later, babe.”

 

Matt left not long after Lance, leaving Pidge and Keith alone in the apartment. Keith spent the rest of the time before class going over the PowerPoint slides from Monday's lecture, since he'd done an abysmal job taking notes and they had a quiz. His attention kept wandering though, going over every detail of waking up with Lance, which made concentration quite difficult. Mercifully, it seemed Pidge had not been alerted to their morning activities, so he didn't have to endure her sideways smiles. 

 

Feeling semi-confident about his prospects on the impending quiz, Keith and Pidge made their way to campus. If Pidge could tell he was distracted, she made no mention of it, seeming to be lost in her own thoughts as well. They took their customary seats near the back of the room and listened as the professor dictated that they would spend the first half of class taking the quiz and the second half going over it. Normally Keith would think, something like this was a waste of time, but today it meant he had most of the class figuring out what to text Lance about the previous evening. The thought was like a stone in his stomach to be sure, but at the same time, he wanted Lance to understand him. And part of that meant being honest about his feelings and himself, a prospect that caused both his throat to clench and his heart to soar all at once. 

 

Keith's time spent preparing paid off and he finished his quiz with fifteen minutes to spare. By the time they were about to start going over them, he was reasonably satisfied with his message to Lance. He hit send before he could talk himself out of it and then set his phone down and rested his chin on his arms, waiting for his world to come crashing down. 

 

____________________________________________________________

 

Patience was not Lance's strong suit. 

 

After his interrogation at the hands of Hunk and Allura, he had made his way to painting class with a spring in his step, eagerly awaiting the promised message from Keith. But it was taking  _ forever _ . They were fast approaching the halfway mark of class and Lance had wanted to ask Keith to meet him at the cafe again, but Allura had cautioned him to wait, to see if Keith would follow through on what he'd said. And Lance couldn't argue too much since he also wanted an explanation. So he waited in agony as the clock passed ten, half-heartedly painting a crimson plastic flower. 

 

Suddenly, Lance's phone vibrated and he almost dropped his paintbrush in his haste to retrieve it from his pocket. 

 

_ (10:04) So here goes I guess.. _ __  
__  
_ I was about fifteen I think, sophomore in high school. There was a guy I liked named Eric, and we were friends, and it was kinda going towards something more. I went through some bad family stuff around the same time, and he was there for me and before I knew it I had fallen for him, harder than I thought possible. We started dating, first love and all that, and it lasted all the way through senior year. He was applying to colleges in and out of state and getting all sorts of scholarship offers, but I wasn't sure what I wanted besides the fact I wanted to be with him. He ended up accepting an offer on the other side of the country, but we hadn't really talked about it, and I was happy for him, but I wasn't ready to leave home, or at least to go that far. I wanted to try to make it work long-distance, but when I tried to talk to him about it he got really defensive, started throwing all sorts of stuff in my face about how I never really loved or supported him, that I was using him as a life raft, that I needed to grow up and deal with my problems, that I loved Pidge's brother more than him, it got... really out of hand. And he just.. left. I haven't seen or heard from him since.  _ __  
__  
_ I.. didn't handle that well, to say the least. I actually left. Just packed a bag, turned off my phone, and started driving, not really paying attention where I was going. It was three days before I turned my phone back on and went home. Obviously, everyone was worried sick, and angry at me, and I'm still ashamed for doing that to them.  And even after I came back, it was a while before I recovered. So when Pidge and Matt found out I didn't come home from work, and that I'd been having more nightmares, they thought I'd left again. I can't be mad at them for that.  _ __  
_  
_ __ After I got to college, I had a few flings, but nothing serious, and nothing I was attached to. Until you. And spending time with you and being close to you felt so... right? But it brought back all the insecurities Eric had thrown in my face and I got scared that I might be too much for you too and I spiraled really hard. And I know I'm dropping a lot on you right now, and I don't want you to feel obligated, or like you have to worry about how I'll react if you don't feel the same way. If you don't want to date because of this, I understand. But I at least wanted you to know what was going on.

 

Lance read the message a few times, careful to hide his phone use from his professor who casually strolled around the room helping other students. Though he wasn't sure exactly what the best way to respond to something like that was, he certainly knew how insecure he would feel if he were to text someone about the darkest point in his life. He hoped he could comfort Keith the way he hoped someone would be able to comfort himself. 

 

\---

 

(10:12) I am really glad you decided to open up to me about all of that. That must be really painful for you. And after that story, I can definitely understand now why Pidge and Matt freaked out a little. I'm really glad you were able to make a different choice this time. I'm more glad that I was able to comfort you when you needed it. 

 

I can't really explain the feeling I get around you, honestly. You might've described it best. Something about being near you makes me feel at home, kind of the way that Hunk and Allura do, but also excited and nervous. It's gonna take a lot more than this to scare me away, so looks like you're stuck with me for now, Boyfriend. :3

 

I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me about stuff like this. If you start to spiral again, or if you just want to vent about anything at all, I'm here for you. Or if you want to sit quietly and cuddle, I'm down for that, too. Whatever helps you the most. As a Frequent Spiral-er myself, I have mastered the art of the blanket burrito and the Netflix-til-you’re-silently-judging-yourself recovery methods. ;)

In all seriousness, I am glad you're okay, and I'm not going anywhere. Promise. 

 

\---

 

Lance released the breath he forgot he was holding as he hit send. 

 

“Whatcha doin’ there, Pal?”

 

Hunk's voice directly behind him almost made him fall out of his seat. 

 

“Keith texted me about that thing he said he would,” Lance panted. “How do you sneak up on me like that every time!?”

 

Hunk smiled warmly.

 

“You have laser-like focus, Lance. When you're paying attention to something, such as your phone, I can be certain that you cannot notice anything else.” Hunk elbowed him as he rolled his eyes. “So is everything okay?” 

 

“I have no idea,” Lance sighed. “But I really hope so.”

 

_________________________________________________

 

Keith read and reread Lance's message several times before the meaning sank in. He felt his shoulders up by his ears and had to exert a small amount of actual effort to relax them. 

 

_ (10:15) You look awfully stressed _

 

He glanced over at Pidge, unsurprised that she was watching him out of the corner of her eye.

 

(10:16) Sending Lance explanations of things. 

 

_ (10:16) Ah. How'd he take it?  _

 

(10:17) Better than expected

 

_ (10:18) Meaninggg…? _

 

(10:20) He didn't run the other direction, and he still wants to be my boyfriend? 

 

_ (10:21) You have low expectations _

 

Keith rolled his eyes at her in response. Returning to Lance's message, he began typing a hesitant reply. 

 

(10:23) Honestly, it feels a lot better to have all this out in the open. I've been on my own in a sense for a while, and I'm not very good at asking for help, even from Pidge and Matt. But I don't want you to feel like you have to worry about me or anything. I want you to know that I'm not gonna lie to you. I like having you around :)

 

(10:25) We're about to get out of class, did you wanna meet at the cafe again? 

 

(10:25)  _ Omg yes please  _

 

(10:26)  _ Not gonna lie, I was a little nervous there for a few minutes _

 

When their professor dismissed them, Keith stood up promptly, looking forward to seeing Lance even though it'd only been a few hours. Pidge stood in his way, backpack over one shoulder and her hand on her hip. 

 

“We going?” Keith nodded past her. 

 

“As soon as you tell me you'll  _ actually _ try to keep yourself in mind when you're working through relationship things with Lance.” 

 

“Pidge, c'mon.” Keith rolled his eyes but his roommate didn't budge. “I'm gonna tell Lance you made me late for our fifteen-minute cafe date.”

 

“I'll take my chances,” she challenged. 

 

“Piiidge…”

 

“Keith, I'm serious. I like Lance, and I don't think he'd purposely hurt you, but I've got to know that you're gonna advocate for yourself. You deserve more than ‘didn't run the other direction’ out of a relationship. You know that, right?”

 

His shoulders sagged as he nervously ran a hand through his hair. “I know, okay? But right now I'm managing my expectations.”

 

“Well, I'm officially relieving you of that responsibility. I am in charge of your expectations now. They're higher. Deal with it.” With that she turned on her heel and marched towards the exit. Keith tried to smother the smile creeping onto his face. It would only encourage her. 

 

He found Lance sitting at the same table where they'd met before, his leg bouncing almost nervously it seemed under the table as he read over a document on his laptop. A sandwich lay forgotten nearby. 

 

“Homework?” Keith asked as he approached, setting his backpack on the floor. 

 

“Research paper. I've got first drafts of three different papers due Friday and I won't even be in town, so I need to get them done, like today. I'm mostly finished.” He closed the laptop and rested his elbows atop it, threading his fingers together and setting his chin on them. “How are you?”

 

“Much better, now,” Keith smiled, discreetly kicking Lance lightly under the table. 

 

“You work tonight?”

 

Keith nodded. “Shiro might try to send me home again knowing him, but I'm gonna go in anyway.”

 

“You really ought to get some rest at some point, y'know,” Lance sighed affectionately, shaking his head.

 

“I did rest!”

 

“Oh, is that what you call it?”

 

Keith couldn't keep the grin off his face. “I don't recall any protests…”

 

Lance rolled his eyes, attempting to retain some degree of dignity as a flush creeped up his neck. “Confident Keith is very flirty, I was unprepared for this. And here I was thinking I had the upper hand…”

 

Keith leaned in, his smile turning downright mischievous. “If you wanna see who has the upper hand, I think you still owe me a wrestling rematch.”

 

“Oh I do, do I?” Lance's eyebrows shot up at the challenge, his grin matching Keith's. “Well, if you want a rematch, you're gonna have to find a way to get off work early. Two in the morning will not go over well with Hunk and Allura.” 

 

“Are you inviting me to stay the night?”

 

“Pikachu misses you,” Lance shrugged. “Can't be helped, really.”

 

Lance's phone vibrated on the table. He glanced at it, sighed, and decidedly ignored it, the corners of his mouth turning down. 

 

“Everything okay?”

 

“It's just that family drama I was talking about before. My mom is guilting me into seeing my aunt and cousin in Gainesville this weekend. Lunch on Friday is on our own at the mall near where our hotel is, and she wants me to text my cousin to meet up with them and catch up.”

 

“Is there a reason you don't want to see them?”

 

Lance dipped his head, hiding his chin and mouth behind his hands. 

 

“Uh… n-no… not really…”

 

“Pineapple.”

 

Genuine confusion crossed Lance's features. “What?”

 

“That's the codeword I came up with for us to use when we don't want to answer a difficult question. That way we're not lying about it, we're just acknowledging it’s too heavy to discuss right now.”

 

Lance nodded, smiling. 

 

“Pineapple.”

 

“I had also hoped it would make you laugh. You're cute when you laugh.”

 

“Ohmygod whyyy are you so sweet when you know I have to go back to claaaass…?”

 

“It's fun,” Keith winked. “Go on, go be responsible, I can't afford to get on Hunk and Allura's bad sides this early by encouraging you to skip class.”

 

Lance shook his head still smiling. “Fiiine…” he stood, gathering his laptop and half-eaten sandwich. When he leaned down to kiss Keith goodbye, one of Keith's hands gently cupped Lance's cheek, somehow charging the embrace with electricity in the process. Lance pulled away a few inches with intense reluctance. 

 

“Hnnnnng… you're doing that on purpose.”

 

Keith simply smirked. “Later, babe,” he whispered. 

 

________________________________________

 

Lance found himself lost in his canvas for the rest of class, and not in the good way. Every bit of paint he applied seemed to alter the very essence of what he'd envisioned, which he argued was a completely ridiculous thought to have over a still life of a fake clump of flowers, but couldn't bring himself to make the jump from his painting to what was really on his mind. By the time they were folding up the easels, he could feel the unease hanging around his head, bidding him to indulge it just a little; to remember the things from twelve years ago he’d been dodging ever since.  _ Not today, Satan. _ He corrected his posture as Hunk joined him to leave. 

 

“I'm off to Diff EQ for a quiz. Re-submitting request for you to just kill me now instead of allowing my subjection to such torture.” Hunk smiled hopefully at Lance.

 

“Request denied, as always.” Lance led the way out of the classroom. 

 

“Rude. If you really loved me, you'd put me out of my misery.”

 

“Untrue. My love for you surpasses your fleeting and typically unfounded disdain for classes in which you end up excelling. Go knock it out, buddy. Test anxiety be damned.”

 

“You're particularly uplifting today. I take it your Keith-break is to thank for that?” Hunk chuckled as they stopped by their shared locker in the hallway to drop off their art supplies. 

 

“Pfft. I'm always this inspiring. Someone clearly just doesn't pay attention.” Lance crossed his arms in a pout. 

 

“Clearly,” Hunk scoffed. “See you at rehearsal!” 

 

Lance waved as Hunk left him. He glanced down at the phone screen he'd been avoiding since after break. Instead of waiting for Lance to come up with another excuse, his mother had given his number to Nicolas. 

 

(11:04)  _ ¡Primito! Your mom says you're going to be in Florida this weekend? When can you meet up?  _

 

Lance's stomach churned as his phone vibrated again. 

 

(11:56)  _ ¿Me estás ignorando? _

 

(11:57) No, I was in class. I told my mom I wouldn't have time to meet up. Lo siento. Maybe next time.

 

He scowled down at his phone.  _ Or never. That'd work for me, too. _

 

“Careful, your face could get stuck like that. I'd do my best to fix it though.” 

 

Lance almost dropped his phone as Keith approached him. 

 

“¡Mierda! I didn't even see you!” 

 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. How's the painting?” Keith sensed that whatever had made Lance so jumpy was still well within pineapple territory. 

 

“Actually, I might need some help with it next week. I keep messing it up. Would you want to?”

 

“I'd love to,” Keith nodded. “I'll get my Monday shift covered. We can work on it that evening before your, uh, dance class.”

 

Keith's flush elicited a shit-eating grin to replace Lance's former scowl. 

 

“Maybe I'll send you another video of some choreography Allura’s been helping with for a group number,” Lance smirked. “Holy crow! The showcase! You have to come!”

 

“The what?”

 

“We're having a student showcase. I'm just in one of the group numbers, but Allura is writing us a duet. It's next month, around Halloween. It'll be fun!”

 

“Wouldn't miss it,” Keith smiled. Lance's face lit up the way Keith hoped it would. “I've gotta get to class, but I'll see you tonight. If Shiro kicks me out of the shop early, I'll let you know.” 

 

“Yay! I'll try really hard not to text him to sway his decision. Promise.” Lance cheesed. 

 

“You already did, didn't you?”

 

“Nooo…” 

 

“Brat.” Keith hip bumped him, chuckling. 

 

“Flirt,” Lance accused. He kissed Keith on the cheek, purposely breathing down his neck as he passed. 

 

“Tease.”

 

“Guilty,” Lance winked, shooting finger guns at Keith. “Bye, babe!”

 

Keith waved him off, struggling to reel his heart back into its assigned seat as it fluttered wildly around in his chest. He quickly retrieved his drawing supplies from his locker and headed up the stairs to his classroom, only to realize once he got there and saw it empty that they were still working in the library. Cursing himself and Lance's distracting smile, he hurried across the outdoor mall into the correct building. 

 

After checking in with his professor and apologizing for his mistake, he made his way to the secluded West Stacks, fondly remembering the afternoon he spent with Lance.  _ Was that really just yesterday? _ It seemed impossible. That had to have been the longest Tuesday of his entire life. And quite possibly the best one, given the way he stupidly smiled to himself as he thought about Lance.

 

Keith grunted as he slowly lowered himself to the floor. Going to the gym in his condition last night was not one of his brighter ideas. He'd probably need to take a break for a day or two. Oddly enough, the prospect didn't bother him nearly as much as it might have in the past…

 

__________________________________________________

 

“Is this the best band in the land?” Dr. Wimbleton-Smythe shouted over the huddled mass of band members around the podium.

 

“Hell yes!” they shouted in unison. 

 

“Dismissed!”

 

“Woo!”

 

Hunk caught Lance by the arm as he passed to put away his trombone. 

 

“We should pack tonight so we aren't scrambling tomorrow.” 

 

“Okay, Mom,” Lance laughed. 

 

“You'll thank me Friday morning when we're on a bus to the airport at two a.m. Remember the trip to Memphis last ye…”

 

“Okay, okay,” Lance shushed him. “We'll pack tonight.”

 

“Aww, so no lion slippers this time?” Matt elbowed Lance as he walked behind him, tenor sax still hanging from his neck strap. 

 

“I was half asleep and couldn't find my tennis shoes. Sue me.” Lance rolled his eyes. 

 

“I'm still rather impressed that you marched a whole rehearsal on a crummy grass high school football field without dying in those slippers the day before the game.” Pidge loosened the mouthpiece from the neck of her alto saxophone as she approached. 

 

“That was on a dare!” Lance defended. “I'm going back to my section. They  _ appreciate _ my fuzzy lion slippers, unlike  _ some _ people.”

 

Lance left them to find his horn case. His phone lay atop it with four more unopened texts from Nico and his mom. Taking a deep breath, he set it aside to get his equipment put away first.  _ They can wait. _

 

“So were you gonna tell me?”

 

Lance flinched at the female voice that met his ears as he fastened the last clasp on his instrument case.  _ Between her and Nico, I might need to hire a closet cleaning service. _

 

“Wait, are we talking now? I honestly can't remember.” He allowed the bitterness to seep into his voice as he looked up at Claire, his ex girlfriend who played piccolo with Allura and Romelle. 

 

“We are when it involves my reputation too.”

 

“I don't even know what you're talking about.” He stood and crossed his arms. He spotted Allura and Romelle sprinting across the concrete practice field, which concerned him a bit. Matt and Pidge watched silently from their spots next to Hunk, who looked like he was about to come forcibly remove Lance from the situation.  _ I really don't have the patience for this today.  _

 

“And now you're gonna stand here and lie to me about it? Does your mom know? She doesn't, does she?” 

 

“Know about  _ what _ ?” 

 

“You're gay now?”

 

Lance’s heart stopped. The rest of his section-mates around him paused to listen.  _ She's seriously going to do this right now? _

 

“What? No? Claire I…”

 

“Then why was Allura telling Romelle all about this cute little hipster boy you sent a video of yourself pole dancing to?! When did you start pole dancing with Allura? What the Hell?!” She threw her arms in the air.

 

_ Scratch the cleaning service, I need an exorcist for this demon.  _

 

Lance peeked back up at his friends. Allura was watching while Romelle was explaining something to Hunk. She mouthed “I'm so sorry,” to him from across the span of blacktop between them. He took a deep breath. 

 

“Claire, I'm only going to say this to you once, so listen carefully. You dumped me. You broke my fucking heart. And when I wanted to talk to you about it, you told me I was needy and annoying, and you know what? Maybe I am. But do not flatter yourself and tell everyone that you breaking up with me  _ turned _ me gay. One, that's not how  _ any _ of this works. Two, I'm  _ bisexual _ . Always have been. I just never told you because I was worried you'd freak out. Guess I was right about that one.” He looked pointedly at her. “As for the ‘cute little hipster boy,’ his name is Keith, and he is none of your goddamn business. Neither is whether or not my mother knows anything or everything about him. Now, do both of us a favor, and never talk to me again.”  _ Please _ . 

 

Speechless, she walked away, clearly not expecting retaliation from Lance, who she'd frequently joked was the biggest pushover she'd ever met. From behind him, the entire trombone section began clapping. Hunk and Allura ran over to him as Claire retreated. 

 

“Lance I'm so, so sorry. I'd told Romelle…”

 

He held up his hand. 

 

“Allura it's fine. I know you didn't mean to.” 

 

“Are you okay?” Hunk craned his neck down to try to get Lance to look at him. 

 

“Pineapple…” Lance mumbled. 

 

Hunk quirked an eyebrow in confusion. 

 

“I'll be fine,” Lance sighed finally. “I just want to go home.”

 

________________________________________

 

_ (18:20) You should call Lance when you get the chance. _

 

Keith's brow furrowed as he leaned against the counter waiting for his orders to be put together. If Pidge was concerned about Lance's level of distress, he must've gotten worse at practice.

 

(18:23) Going out on a run in a minute. I can call him from my car. Is everything okay?

 

_ (18:25) So his ex girlfriend found out he's dating you and confronted him about it.  _

 

(18:25) I will literally cut her whoever the fuck she is

 

(18:26) What did she say?

 

_ (18:27) Actually Lance ripped her a new one. That's why I'm worried. He doesn't really stand up to people like that. It was out of character.  _

 

_ (18:28) He got a standing ovation from Matt and the entire trombone section, but it just wasn't like him _

 

(18:30) Wait, she did this in front of the whole fucking band???

 

_ (18:31) Yeah, classy right? It was kinda intense _

 

(18:32) Christ

 

Keith grabbed his newly full delivery bags from the countertop and hurried to load them into his car. As he pulled out of the parking lot he called Lance, wondering if he would even answer. 

 

The line picked up and someone sniffled on the other end. “Hello?”

 

“Hey babe, Pidge said something happened at practice, are you okay?”

 

Lance sniffled again. “Not really,” he choked out. 

 

Keith felt his entire body go numb right through to the tips of his fingers and toes. “What the fuck did she say.”

 

“I'm so _ mad _ , I can't even think…” Lance sounded like he was unsuccessfully holding back tears. “Who does she think she  _ i _ s?!  _ Her _ fucking reputation…”

 

“What?!”

 

“Apparently,” Lance attempted to get his vocal chords under control, “it's  _ inconvenient  _ to her that I'm bisexual, and she demands I think of how it must make _ her  _ feel.”

 

Keith muttered a string of curses under his breath. Someone honked at him and he realized the light was green. “I want to say something to make you feel better right now,” he tried to concentrate on the road but he was having trouble focusing, “but I'm honestly so fucking pissed off I can hardly see straight.”

 

“Are you driving right now?”

 

“Yeah I've got a four-stop run. We're really slow tonight though. If I ask, Shiro will let me go. Where are you?”

 

“Home. Don't leave early just for me, I'll be okay until you get off.”

 

“Lance, you don't sound okay. I'll be there in an hour and a half, okay?” Keith felt his heart lurch when Lance sniffed again. 

 

“Okay.” 

 

Yeah he was definitely crying. 

 

“Where are Hunk and Allura?”

 

“Downstairs. I asked them to leave me alone…”

 

“Is that really what you want?”

 

“No.” Lance's voice was muffled like he'd hidden his face in a pillow. 

 

“Go downstairs and let them help you, babe. I'll be there soon.”

 

“Okay… drive safe.”

 

When Keith returned to the store and set his bags on the counter, Shiro seemed to know something was wrong. Keith normally hated how he was able to do that, but today he was grateful. 

 

“Would it be possible…”

 

“Go,” Shiro interrupted, waving at him. 

 

“Really?”

 

“Did you see your parking job just now?” He tilted his head toward the front windows through which Keith realized he was straddling the line between two spaces. “Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah, it's Lance.”

 

“Say no more,” Shiro shooed him. “You should go get some more rest anyway.”

 

“Thanks Shiro!” He spun on his heel and reached for the door. 

 

“And please drive like a normal person!” Shiro called after him. 

 

“No promises!”

 

Keith wasn't timing it, but he was pretty sure he broke a few of his delivery records driving to Lance's place… and maybe a few laws, but stop signs are tedious and poorly placed on the south side of town, so could anyone really blame him? As he stood, he pulled off his Domino’s polo and tossed it into the passenger seat. Hunk met him at the front door. 

 

“He's in Allura's room. I'm making dinner if you're hungry. Spaghetti?”

 

“Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks Hunk,” Keith lied. He was so upset he didn't think he could eat ice if he wanted to. 

 

Lance was wrapped in a quilt on Allura's bed with his head in her lap. She played idly with his hair while he scrolled through an app on his phone. 

 

“Expert blanket burrito technique. I give it a ten for sure.” Keith leaned in the doorway.

 

“I wouldn't lie about something like that, Keith,” Lance said seriously. He was glad Lance's roommates appeared to have cheered him up at least a little. Allura patted the bed behind Lance, so Keith kicked off his shoes and made his way over to them. 

 

“Wanna talk about it?” He positioned himself on the bed next to Allura, who glanced down at Lance.

 

“I'll go help Hunk with dinner.” She helped Lance sit up, propping him up on Keith who wrapped his arms low around his waist, and retreated to the kitchen, leaving only a small crack in the door.

 

“So... I dated this girl for the majority of last year. I  _ really _ liked her. I had girlfriends in high school, if you could really call it that, but I fell  _ hard _ for this girl. Like, when you were telling me about your experience with Eric, I completely understood what you were saying about the ‘first love’ thing. That's what she was. She's Catholic, a pre-nursing major, Mom loved her… she fit right into ‘the plan,’ as it were…”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Well, she's actually pretty into the Church, which I was totally fine with… until she found out I wasn't completely a virgin.” Lance rolled his eyes, remembering the argument that had begun to unravel his relationship with Claire. 

 

“Wait, so you didn't have sex with her?”

 

“Nope. It was never on the table, which I respected. I grew up thinking that way too. It just never occurred to me that it would be such a hard deal-breaker for someone I thought I was in love with.”

 

“One, it shouldn't have been. Two, what do you mean by ‘not completely’ a virgin? Three, so who is this mysterious ‘one other person’ you said you'd fooled around with?”

 

Lance felt his face heat up, and he didn’t respond right away.

 

“We don't have to talk about this,” Keith offered, gently resting his chin on Lance's head.

 

“But we  _ do _ though. I don't want to make the same mistake twice.” Lance did his best to relax against Keith. “The summer before college there was this girl I graduated high school with who was really into me. I liked her enough, but we were both about to move away to different schools. She was  _ way _ more experienced than I was, but didn't know that because I admittedly didn't tell her. We went on a few dates, and once when we were making out she offered to give me a blow job, which I didn't say no to, but one hundred percent freaked out about later. I was more comfortable helping her get off, honestly.” Lance peeked up at Keith. “Sorry, I'm… weird… about sex.”

 

Keith didn’t say anything for a moment, and when he did his voice sounded strangled. “So… when I… this morning… were you…?”

 

“What? No no no. That was totally wanted and not at all scary. You made me feel super comfortable and like I could stop you if I wanted to at any point. Fun fact, I didn't want to stop you. I was ready for that.”

 

Keith visibly relaxed. “Okay, because I never want to intimidate you or make you uncomfortable  _ at all _ , even on accident… and you aren't weird. Well, you are a little weird, but not about sex,” he teased, ruffling Lance's hair. 

 

“Glad you think so. Claire did not. She said she didn't even want to kiss me after she found out where my mouth had been, so to speak. If only she knew now,” Lance chuckled, but there was a bitterness to it that Keith didn't miss.

 

“She really hurt you.”

 

“She made it sound like I’d ruined my entire life. And I felt like I had… she broke up with me when I decided to move in with Hunk and Allura because Allura pole danced and yeah… I was lost for a little while. But then Allura dragged me to a pole class and it kind of healed me? I think? A little? I dunno, it's hard to explain. When I dance I feel more in control of my own body than I ever have.”

 

Keith smiled down at the boyfriend burrito in his lap. 

 

“I can't wait to see you dance, then. Just talking about it makes your whole face light up.”

 

Lance’s grin widened and he buried his face. “Ugh, you’re so cute. Why do you notice things like that?”

 

_ Why do I notice things like that? _

 

Keith was about to respond when a light knock came at the door. It was Allura.

 

“Food’s ready. You guys hungry?”

 

Lance sat up and wrestled his way out of the blanket. 

 

“Famished. You're gonna  _ love _ Hunk’s spaghetti sauce,” he said to Keith, who nodded.

 

“I can smell how awesome it is from here.”

 

They went out and Hunk had bowls ready in the kitchen for self-service. There was also garlic bread on the counter, and it was clearly homemade. Hunk and Allura were already sitting at the table digging into their food, so Lance and Keith went in to help themselves. Lance went first, filling his bowl to the rim and grabbing a couple pieces of bread. Keith settled for half a bowl and the smallest piece of bread he could find. When they sat down, Hunk noticed Keith’s small portion.

 

“Hey man, you know you can have as much as you want right? You don’t have to worry or anything, we always make big batches of food.”

 

Keith attempted to smile back. “I’m good with this, but I really appreciate it, thanks.”

 

“Did you eat before you went into work?” Allura asked with her mouth full.

 

“Ah… no. I don’t really, um, have much of an appetite when I’m stressed, and the last couple of days have been… stressful,” he finished lamely. He noticed the worried flicker of Lance's eyes to his face. “Things are looking up, though.” He tried to smile convincingly, but wasn't sure how effective it was. Truth be told, he was a little terrified. He and Lance had been dating for less than a day and they'd both of them had had major breakdowns. On the plus side, at least they had each been able to handle, and even help each other. That set his mind at ease for now as the other three chatted at the table. During the course of the meal, Lance had snuck his hand over onto Keith's leg. He took it in his own gratefully, smoothing his thumb over the curve of the heel of Lance's hand. Yeah. This could work. They'd make it work. 

 

“So what's the schedule for this weekend away game thing?” Keith asked during a lull. 

 

“Lance and I have to get on a bus to the airport at two in the morning on Friday. There's a layover in Atlanta. We should be landing in Orlando around ten their time, so nine here. Then there's an hour and a half bus ride to Gainesville. We can't check into the hotel until three, so they're letting us loose in the mall nearby to kill some time and grab lunch. DW will probably have a music rehearsal in one of the large event rooms at the hotel that night.” Hunk stood to put his bowl in the sink.

 

“DW?” Keith asked. 

 

“It's  _ way _ shorter than ‘Dr. Wimbleton-Smythe,’” Lance explained. 

 

“He also responds exasperatedly to ‘D-Dubbs,’ and ‘Dubbsmythe,’ as Lance has insisted upon calling him,” Allura giggled. 

 

“DW reminds me of that kid show with the aardvarks and the bunny. I can't take him seriously when I call him that.”

 

“But D-Dubbs is better?!” Hunk chortled from the kitchen.

 

“Keith, you look confused.” Allura pointed her fork at him.

 

“The kid show with the aardvarks? What even is that?” Keith was clearly missing the biggest point in this conversation.

 

“Umm… did you never watch Arthur on PBS?” Hunk asked, peeking around the corner.

 

“Apparently not?”

 

Lance and Allura both gasped dramatically. 

 

“Cheated. You were cheated.” Allura shook her head. 

 

“What about Reading Rainbow? Sesame Street? Wishbone?! BARNEY?!” As Keith shook his head, Lance became even more incredulous. “Barney and Friends is where Selena Gomez started her career! How could you not… wait, do not tell me that blank look on your face means you don't know who Selena Gomez is…”

 

“I won't tell you, then?” Keith cheesed at him. 

 

“So you're not a Disney Channel kid either, huh?” Hunk came around the corner to watch the complete meltdown his roommates were experiencing. 

 

“My parents didn't have cable when I was growing up, and when we watched movies, they were mostly cult classics and cartoons my dad watched as a kid. The Flintstones, Rocky and Bullwinkle, Looney Tunes, those kinds of shows. Star Wars… Independence Day… Young Frankenstein… Rocky Horror… And they were all on VHS.”

 

“Welp, we'll have to fix this at some point,” Lance chuckled. “What Disney movies  _ have _ you seen?”

 

“Anastasia?”

 

“THAT'S NOT EVEN DISNEY!” Allura and Lance shouted in unison. Hunk was crying at this point, doubled over and clutching his sides. 

“You've really dug yourself in deep,” he wheezed. “When fall break rolls around you'll regret this conversation. They'll tie you to the sofa and tape your eyes open. You'll be singing Disney songs in your sleep.”

 

“You seem to be speaking from experience,” Keith noted. 

 

“How'd you guess?” Hunk laughed.

 

“Don't act like you didn't end up liking every movie!” Lance shouted. 

 

Hunk rolled his eyes, still smiling. 

 

Lance finished his dinner last, as he seemed to do more talking than eating, which honestly Keith was grateful for. He seemed genuinely relaxed again. After a while Allura retired to her room to go over some flashcards for her Human Anatomy class. Hunk pulled out a textbook and resumed a math assignment he was half finished with. Keith caught Lance's gaze from the chair next to him and nodded towards the stairs. 

 

“I think we're gonna go to upstairs. Night Hunk!” Lance said, standing. 

 

“Night. Remember Allura is literally right below you,” he chuckled. 

 

“I'm putting in headphones!” she shouted from her room. 

 

Lance scrubbed his face with one hand at their antics before grabbing Keith's hand and tugging him up the stairs. When they were safely in Lance's room, Keith leaned against the door, crossed his arms, and piped up with the question that was burning a hole in his brain. 

 

“Babe, do they not know you've never had sex with someone?”

 

Lance paused before answering. 

 

“It's no secret I'm a giant flirt. I met Hunk at band camp freshman year, and Allura at the second band party last year. They're my best friends, and I tell them everything, but I've never really seen the need to explain it exactly. You're the first person besides Claire I've even told about Autumn. I'm sure Allura and Hunk assume things, but I don't mind. It's not like it makes a difference.”

 

Keith nodded. “That makes sense…” 

 

Lance walked over to his dresser and dug through the top drawer for an oversized t-shirt and changed into it. Keith tugged his black undershirt over his head and allowed his black jeans to fall to the floor, stepping out of his socks as well. He stretched and made his way over to the bed while Lance searched for something in one of his desk drawers. He came back with a micro USB and a mismatched wall adapter. 

 

“My Bluetooth speaker charger should work for your inferior Android phone,” Lance winked. 

 

Keith only half heard what Lance even said, distracted by the way the giant shirt he wore slipped over one shoulder and completely hid the boxers he didn't remember Lance removing. 

 

“Uh, great. Thanks, babe.” 

 

Lance handed him the charger and returned to the door to hit the light. 

 

“Are you ready to go to sleep?” Keith asked as Lance crawled under the covers and snuggled closer to him. Lance chuckled. 

 

“Sounds like you aren't,” Lance mumbled next to the shell of Keith's ear. Keith turned to face him and laid a gentle hand on Lance's thigh, trailing it down to tug Lance's knee up and over his own hip. 

 

“It is ridiculous how hot you are in this shirt…” Keith started playing with the hem of it for emphasis. 

 

“Says the man who’s been in all black since he got here. Do you even  _ know _ how hard it is not to just jump you in those jeans and a skin tight black shirt?!”

 

“I would not have protested,” Keith murmured, bringing their faces together. Lance's fingers tangled into his hair as Keith kissed him deeply. Experimentally, Keith slid his hand under the shirt and over Lance's hip to squeeze his ass. 

 

A desperate sound escaped Lance's chest as he pressed himself against Keith's thigh. 

 

“Is that okay?” Keith whispered between kisses. 

 

“Si,” Lance breathed. “I want you.”

 

Keith nuzzled his face under Lance's chin to ghost his lips across his throat and lick a searing line across Lance's exposed collarbone. 

 

“Dios mio…”

 

“Mmm,” he gently grazed his teeth against Lance's neck, eliciting another moan as the other man arched into him, “you make it pretty easy to tell when you like something…”

 

“Hnnnnggg… you are  _ not  _ playing fair…”

 

“I'm sorry,” Keith whispered, not sounding the least bit repentant as he breathed hot air up Lance's throat, “would you like me to stop?”

 

“Definitely not,” he gasped. 

 

“Good.” Keith's mouth found Lance's again and he pulled the other man's hips against him. Lance raked his nails roughly down Keith's back in response, causing a low growl to escape the raven-haired man's chest. Encouraged, Lance shifted his hip to press it against Keith. He moaned against Lance's lips and circled his arm around Lance's waist, pulling him as close as physically possible. Lance rolled his pelvis, drawing a sharp gasp from both of them. 

 

Keith shifted his weight, and before Lance knew what was happening he was on top of Keith straddling one of his legs. Keith placed his hands on Lance's hips as they clumsily untangled their legs, Lance chuckling nervously as he realized Keith had repositioned them so that Lance was  _ between _ his legs instead. 

 

_ Chill out, Lance, or he's gonna notice you're anxious.  _

 

Keith noticed. 

 

“You still good?”

 

“Yeah, I'm just… this is, uh…” Lance stumbled over his own tongue. 

 

“C’mere,” Keith beckoned, opening his arms. Lance lowered himself down into Keith's embrace. “You don't have to be afraid to tell me what's wrong.” Keith ran his fingers through Lance's hair. 

 

“It sounds dumb though,” Lance protested. 

 

“Try me,” Keith challenged him. 

 

“I just felt really exposed just now. It's dumb because we've made out with the lights on. You gave me a blow job. And swallowed.  _ This morning _ . But that just now… the way you looked at me…” 

 

“What way was that?” Keith wiggled so he could see Lance's face. 

 

“Like you want me? Like I'm something special?”

 

“But I do…” Lance felt Keith's heartbeat speed up under him. “And you are.”

 

Lance's eyes widened. 

 

“That's uh… that's a lot.”

 

“Sorry,” Keith murmured into Lance's hair. 

 

“No, don't be. I've just never really felt like that before.” He clung to Keith. 

 

“Like what?”

 

“Special…” he trailed.  _ Wanted _ , he thought.

 

Keith lifted Lance's chin to kiss him tenderly. 

 

“Well, I might not know you that well yet, but I know that much.”

 

Keith dragged his tongue along Lance's bottom lip as they kissed, lightly trailing streaks of electricity up and down Lance's spine with his fingertips under the t-shirt. After a few moments, he felt Lance's muscles relax. That is until he had to adjust his hips under Lance's weight, which reminded them both that they'd been in the middle of something before. Keith couldn't stop the moan that he tried to bite back as Lance pressed against him. He found himself clawing at the back of Lance's shirt when the man above him rutted down against him. Lance buried his face in the crook of Keith's neck where his bruise from this morning seemed to ache with his pulse. 

 

Lance drew his tongue lightly along Keith's jawline and gently nipped at his earlobe before trailing kisses down his throat. Keith gasped for air under his ministrations, his hands finding their way to Lance's hips, holding him where he was. When Lance began slowly swaying them back and forth, Keith moved one hand to Lance's neck, pulling Lance's mouth to his own. He groaned with pleasure against Lance's lips as the other man wound his fingers into his hair and pulled. 

 

“You like your hair being pulled, don't you?”

 

“God, yes, please don't stop. So good.” Keith struggled half-heartedly against Lance to relieve the knot in the pit of his stomach.

 

Lance laughed against Keith's lips as he held his head firmly against the pillow. 

 

“Why are you  _ teasing _ me?” 

 

“The faces you make are really cute, mostly,” Lance winked. “But also because I'm pretty sure you're enjoying it even more than I am.”

 

“Somebody is feeling more confident,” Keith breathed as Lance redirected his attention to mapping out the expanse of Keith's muscled chest with his mouth. 

 

“Mmmm, well this really hot guy who I really like just told me I was special, and I maybe am gonna ride that ego boost for all it's worth.” Lance's teeth grazed Keith's nipple, eliciting a string of curses to slip between his lips in a hiss. 

 

“Definitely not complaining. Mostly because I'm  _ definitely _ gonna get you-” he bit his lip as Lance’s tongue grazed over the hollow of his hip, “-back” he gasped.

 

“Oh, I'm counting on it,” Lance pressed his mouth between Keith's legs over his boxer briefs, eliciting a deep growl of pure  _ need _ . Deciding Keith had endured enough, Lance lowered the waistband of his shorts and in one swift motion took all of him. Keith sharply sucked in a breath through his teeth, clearly taken by surprise, which pleased Lance. He slowly stroked Keith with his tongue, while using  one hand to gently rake his nails across his chest, causing Keith to arch into his touch. He repeated the motion, harder, and Keith's body spasmed as he climaxed. Satisfied with himself, Lance glanced up triumphantly at Keith, who was still shivering under him. Lance grabbed a tissue from his nightstand while Keith recovered. Once Keith was sure Lance was finished cleaning up, he pounced, gently, but purposefully, guiding him back down onto the pillows. 

 

“So I take it that was good for you?” Lance smiled up at Keith. 

 

“I don't think I've ever experienced anything quite like that,” Keith admitted, closing his eyes as another shiver snaked up his spine and down his arms. “Like I didn't realize how close I was until it was too late. It is totally unfair how quickly you picked up giving head and I would be sort of jealous if I did not also directly benefit from it,” he chuckled. Lance smiled at the compliment. “Now, about that payback…” 

 

Lance hadn't noticed while they were talking, but Keith's hand had slithered down his body and was now pushing up his nightshirt. The other found its place at the side of his neck, bringing Lance's mouth to Keith's. The hand under his shirt began teasing circles over one nipple, intermittently applying light pressure, while one of Keith's hips gently did the same between his legs. Lance sighed into the embrace, trying to pull Keith even deeper in, but Keith held him back with ease, pulling away slightly every now and again so he could watch Lance chase him.

 

“I told you,” Keith breathed against his neck, biting gently for emphasis, “that I was gonna get you back.”

 

He spared Lance a devious grin before ducking down to kiss the skin he'd revealed at Lance's hips. Lance's hands flew to his hair, scratching gently at Keith's scalp as he mouthed above his waistband. 

 

“Your skin is so soft,” Keith whispered. “When you sent me that video on Monday and I saw the bruises I'd left, all I could think about was how I hoped you'd let me leave more.”

 

“Hazlo… Ah!” Lance twisted the locks of Keith's hair between his fingers as Keith breathed hotly over him. 

 

“Would you like that, baby?” Keith's eyes darted up to Lance's face. “You want marks to remind you of this?”

 

Lance bit his lip and nodded. 

 

Keith sucked a bruise into the hollow of Lance's hip, fighting back a smile at the way Lance whined and bucked his hips at the attention. He inched the waistband of Lance's boxers down on one side, repeating the exercise once, twice more, trailing his tongue down Lance's hip as he went. By the time he had finished the process, Lance was practically tugging him towards his center, but Keith found his way back to Lance's mouth instead.

 

“Getting impatient?” he teased between kisses, though one hand was slowly finding its way back down Lance's abdomen. He gently stroked Lance over his boxers, eliciting a loud, beseeching moan from the other man. 

 

“Please…” Lance was breathless. 

 

“Mmmmm, I was waiting for you to beg.”

 

With that, Keith quickly slid down Lance's body, tugged the waistband of his boxers aside, and took him. Lance was wound so tightly by that point that Keith made short work of him, and Lance had to turn his face into one of the pillows to keep his voice from echoing off the walls. When Keith crawled back up to lie next to him, Lance immediately curled up into his side, still drawing shaky breaths and occasionally trembling. Keith chuckled happily, kissing his forehead and lightly running his fingers through his hair. 

 

“You gonna sleep okay while I'm gone this weekend?” Lance asked after a few minutes, drawing a gentle pattern across Keith's chest. 

 

“I'll manage.” Keith pulled Lance even closer. “I promise I'll try.”

 

“I'll, uh, miss you.” Lance ducked his head, giving Keith a moment of pause before he patiently lifted Lance's face to look at him. 

 

“I'm gonna miss you too, babe.”


	10. Mall Pretzel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: gaslighting, anxiety, panic attacks, allusions to past trauma (childhood sexual abuse)
> 
> Things are pretty heavy for the next two chapters, and we don't want to blind side anyone. There will not ever be a detailed recounting of what happened to Lance because I don't feel it's necessary, and also, it's triggering for me. This story began as a fun side project for Dunu and me, originally not intended to be this long or even really be posted, but as we wrote and edited, we realized that maybe people like us could benefit somehow from a story like this. If nothing else, we hope it brings comfort to know that we're out here with you. You're not alone. 
> 
> Especially in today's political climate in America, I feel I would be remiss to shy away from this topic. It affects me. It affects many of us. And there are people who would rather we forget. That we "get over it" and let it go for the sake of a person who took so much from us. I refuse. 
> 
> Lance's story is mine. Lance's story is my mother's. Lance's story is that of my friends. And if Lance's story is yours, and if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. There is space for you in my inbox. 
> 
> <3 R3d

Thursday for Lance was a blur of running assignments to his Friday professors, emailing TAs for assignments and PowerPoints he would be missing, and cute, teasing text messages from Keith. By the time he'd arrived at band rehearsal that afternoon, he hadn't had time to be anxious about running into Claire. Until he was weaving his way through cars in the parking lot next to the practice field and found himself stuck between her car and one he thought was Hunk’s from the front. He hadn't even realized it was her until she swung the door open, distracted by her phone, and stood directly in front of him right as he'd been about to pass. 

 

“Oh, sorry,” she started, looking up. “Oh. Hey.”

 

She shoved her phone in her jacket pocket and looked anywhere but at Lance, which he was grateful for. 

 

“Sorry, just trying to get through…” he pointed at the practice field over her shoulder.

 

“Right…” she shut her door and leaned against her car to give him room. As he passed she grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie, stopping him in front of her. “Lance, I'm sorry. I was just really shocked yesterday when I heard what Allura said. I'm not gonna pretend it doesn't bother me, but you don't owe me any explanation. It's your life, and your choice to make.”

 

Lance laughed, mostly to himself. 

 

“It’s not a choice, though.” He glanced down over his shoulder, shaking his head at her confusion. “I appreciate what you're trying to do, and I accept your apology. I'm sorry I snapped at you, but I meant what I said. I don't want to talk to you anymore.” His gaze dropped to his shoes. “It hurts too much.”

 

She released her grip at his elbow and he walked away. Hunk stood watching from behind his car in the next row. Lance waved as he approached. 

 

“What was that about?”

 

“She apologized, actually.” Lance tilted his head toward the instrument shed. He forced his face to relax. “Let's go get our stuff.”

 

Rehearsal for most of the band let out early. The small pep band making the trip to Florida stayed until the regular dismissal time at six for more work on the stands tunes they'd be playing and a run-through of the schedule. Since the bus was leaving at an ungodly hour Hunk and Lance hurried home to eat dinner. Keith was already there with Allura when they pulled up. 

 

“No pizza to deliver tonight?” Hunk greeted him cheerily. 

 

“I do have days off,” Keith laughed. He smiled and took Lance's hand as he reached him at the door. “Hey.”

 

Lance felt the tension release from his shoulders as Keith's fingers found their place slotted between his. 

 

“Hey,” Lance returned. 

 

“You alright?”

 

_ How? How did he know? _

 

“I am now,” Lance murmured, kissing Keith on the cheek. 

 

“Cute,” Allura muttered from behind her laptop.

 

“Stir fry?” Hunk shouted from the kitchen.

 

“Sounds good!” Lance responded. “Wanna help?” he asked as he turned to Keith, who nodded. Allura didn't move from her spot on the couch. 

 

“I ate leftovers. Test tomorrow,” she informed, not looking up. 

 

Lance led the way to the kitchen where Hunk was pulling out supplies from the cabinets. He laid out two cutting boards and two different shaped knives. Lance retrieved thawed chicken, an onion, full-size carrots, and frozen broccoli from the fridge. Hunk started a pot of water on the stove and somehow Keith found himself once again standing awkwardly in front of an oddly shaped food item on a cutting board. 

 

_ Seriously, who decided there were incorrect ways to cut food? _

 

With no directive from the chefs, Keith plucked the less intimidating-looking knife from the counter and rolled the onion onto the cutting board. As he was about to slice into it he heard his boyfriend snort behind him. 

 

“Woah there, Samurai, let me handle that part. Here, babe,” Lance chuckled, handing Keith a vegetable peeler and a carrot. “Think you can manage?”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, but Lance didn't get more than a few steps away before his adorably inept boyfriend had sheared half the carrot away. 

 

“Lance, supervise that one before I put him strictly on dish duty,” Hunk laughed. 

 

Keith stuck his tongue out at both of them, but couldn't deny how funny it was. Lance talked him through chopping carrots while he butterflied and cubed the chicken breast. They tackled the onion together, Lance finding it entirely too hilarious when Keith's eyes started to water. 

 

“Careful, Lance, he has a knife!” Hunk warned as he turned the stove on under the biggest pan Keith had ever seen in his life.

 

“Given I'm not a pineapple, I think my chances are favorable,” Lance teased, hip-bumping Keith. As they assembled the ingredients, Keith couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. 

 

“What is that thing?”

 

“A wok pan,” Lance answered, adding the diced chicken into said contraption. Hunk added a medley of spices before taking a wooden spatula and spinning the cooking food around in the pan.

 

Before long the three of them had joined Allura back in the living room with their dinner. Hunk played an old episode of Family Guy in the background while they ate and joked together. Eight o'clock rolled around and Lance decided he'd like to try to nap before they had to head back to the practice field. He gathered up their dishes and made his way to the kitchen, his mind buzzing as he attempted to calculate how much sleep he could expect to get. 

 

“I can drop you off,” Keith offered as he entered, leaning against the counter next to the sink.

 

“That would actually be awesome,” Lance responded gratefully as he rinsed a bowl. 

 

“Definitely helps me out,” Hunk chimed in as he put the leftovers in the fridge for Allura. “Can you pick us up on Sunday afternoon too? Same place?”

 

“Well I'll have to go straight to my Kappa test when we get back, but Hunk would need a lift. I'll just have Matt pick me up,” Lance corrected. 

 

“Oh right. Good call.”

 

“I can come get you, Hunk. No problem,” Keith nodded. 

 

Lance turned to say something else to Keith only to realize that at some point during this exceptionally brief exchange, Keith had moved to stand directly behind him.

 

“What are you doing back there?” Lance laughed. 

 

“Nothing,” he grinned, arms crossed lazily over his chest. 

 

Lance scoffed. “A likely story.”

 

“Well, I don't know what it's called, but whatever you're doing is fun to watch from back here,” he winked.

 

Lance's face flushed as Allura shouted from the couch. “Oh my god, is he twerking while he does the dishes again?”

 

“Shut up, Allura!” he shouted while she cackled.

 

Keith came up behind Lance, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist and pressing a kiss to the back of his very red neck. “You're cute.”

 

With their plans in place and alarms begrudgingly set for five hours later, the boys turned in for the night, leaving Allura to continue pouring over her notes. Lance plugged in his phone, noticing a notification for the first time since he’d been home. Without texts from Keith to occupy him, he realized he'd taken to not even carrying it around the house that evening. He scowled as he read the text from Nico.

 

(19:42)  _ Hasta mañana, Primito. We'll be at the mall when you get in town. Text me when you land in Orlando! _

 

“Your cousin?” Keith muttered, resting his chin on Lance's shoulder. 

 

“Yeah. That's the last time I send my mom a copy of the trip itinerary.” Lance locked his phone screen. 

 

“Is he just a douchebag, or…?”

 

Lance wasn't sure how long he could avoid this conversation, but he doubted having it less than twenty-four hours before seeing Nico would help. 

 

“It's complicated. I think I want to talk to you about it, but I'm honestly worried it'll stir up a bunch of stuff that I don't have time to deal with right now.” Lance rolled over to face Keith, but didn't make eye contact. 

 

“Lance?” Keith waited for Lance's gaze to flash to his face. “I can't tell you what to do, and I don't know what happened to make you this stressed about seeing your cousin, but it's gonna be okay. You're gonna go on the trip, exchange awkward conversation with your family at lunch, have a great time at the game on Saturday, and be right back here with me Sunday night. And if you want to talk about it then, we can, or if not, I'm sure we can find other things to do.” He winked before he gently brought a hand to Lance's cheek. “Whatever it is, it doesn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon, but neither am I, okay? Don't push yourself.” 

 

“Okay. Thanks Keith. That was actually really helpful.” Lance managed a tiny smile. 

 

“You should try to rest. And if your cousin really gets out of line, text me and I'll call you so you have to step away from lunch. I'll just be killing time again in the art building by then.”

 

Lance's shoulders relaxed at that. That could work. He could say it was for a group project or something and that he really needed to talk through the assignment with his partners. They'd believe that. Or at least Tía Maria would. 

 

“Thank you, babe.”

 

“Anytime.”

 

________________________________________

 

The mall was obnoxiously loud, which was more a testament to Lance's mood than anything else considering the volume level he was typically accustomed to between marching band, parties, and growing up the middle child of five. Hunk could tell he was on edge, and he hated it, because as much as Lance could see the question on Hunk’s face, he wouldn't ask. Not here, anyway. They'd already grabbed food and found a table near the edge of the food court to wait for Lance's aunt and Nico; Hunk had taken to scrolling mindlessly through social media and messaging someone, probably Allura or his friend Shay from Diff EQ who Lance was  _ certain _ he was crushing on. Lance unenthusiastically picked apart his mall pretzel, brushing off the majority of the giant salt crystals, before dipping it in cheese and forcing himself to eat. If he admitted he didn't have an appetite, he was worried Hunk would be further alerted to his growing unease. 

 

If he'd been able to hide even a small portion of it, all discretion blew out the window as his name was shouted from a few feet behind him. He cursed himself for jumping and slapped as big a smile on his face as he could muster, which at this rate was probably rather unimpressive, and turned to wave at his approaching relatives. A short, curvy woman who bore striking resemblance to Lance's mother rushed up to hug him as soon as he stood. Lance let himself enjoy her enthusiasm. It  _ had  _ been a while. 

 

“¡Sobrino! ¿Cómo estás? ¡Eres muy alto! Como tu padre.” She chuckled as she held him at arms-length to look him over. “Oh!” She finally noticed Hunk who smiled warmly from his seat at the table. 

 

“This is my best friend Hunk. He plays sousaphone.” 

 

Hunk stood to shake her hand, but was genuinely unsurprised when he was pulled down into an embrace as well. 

 

“It's nice to meet you, Hunk.”

 

“Can't believe our shy Lancito actually has friends that Veronica didn’t threaten to feed dirt to,” a tall man behind Maria smirked. He was shorter than Lance, but not by much, and what Lance had on him in height was more than made up for in muscle. He wasn't bulky by any means, but Hunk got the impression Nicolas didn’t skip days at the gym. He also got the impression that Lance didn't like him one bit.

 

“Lance? Shy? Ha, that's something I'd have to see to believe.” Hunk glanced at Lance who forced a half-smile. 

 

“Yeah I was a really quiet kid when we lived in Miami. Hunk, this is Nicolas, my cousin. He's the same age as Marco.”

 

They shook hands and the four of them took seats around the small square table, Nicolas taking the seat to Lance's left. They chatted for a bit about school and his siblings. He showed Aunt Maria pictures of Veronica’s son who would be turning one this November. Everything was going well, all things considered, and Lance's previous anxiety had been all but forgotten. That was, until Nico finally piped up and joined the conversation.

 

“So, Lance, Auntie said you and Claire broke up. Sorry to hear,” Nico began. 

 

“Aww! I liked her!” Maria pouted. “At least, what your mother told me about her. What happened? Do I need to go up to that school, because…”

 

Lance raised his hands in surrender.

 

“No, no, Tía, no es necesario . It just didn't work out. Está bien.” 

 

“Well está loca if she dumped as sweet a boy as mi sobrino.”

 

“Gracias. Really, it's fine though. It's been a few months, so I've sort of moved on from the whole thing.” Lance shrugged and shoved a piece of his pretzel into his mouth, which reminded Hunk to close his. 

 

_ Moved on? Is he losing his mind? He was sobbing into Allura’s body pillow not two nights ago. I mean, he's dating somebody else now, but it's not like he can mention Keith…  _

 

“Woah! Yeah I guess so, by the looks of  _ that _ !”

 

Nico pointed animatedly to a string of bruises that had previously been hidden under the strap of Lance's tank top. 

 

_ Speak of the Devil.  _

 

Lance touched his chest just below his collarbone where he really should've remembered to check for marks. Curse his adorable boyfriend for being so damn bitey. He wasn't sure what was worse, that the bruises had been noticed at all; or that Nico was the one to point them out. It sent his stomach into an anxious fit just to be sitting this close to him in the first place. 

 

“Uhh, no, those are from…”

 

“Paintball,” Hunk supplied. “We played paintball the other day and I hit Lance pretty square in the chest there. Sorry, Buddy!” Hunk cheesed and scratched his head.

 

“I'll forgive you this time,” Lance sighed, smiling gratefully at the save. It was then he noticed Hunk was finished with his food. “Here, I'll get that,” Lance offered. 

 

As Lance collected the trays and made his way to the nearest trash can, he felt a presence next to him, causing him to flinch.

 

“You're jumpy, Primito. Everything okay?”

 

“N-never better, Nico.” 

 

His cousin leveled a look at him. “Those bruises aren't from paintball.”

 

Lance didn't reply as he dropped his empty soda cup in the trash. 

 

“I can't believe a goodie-two-shoes like you is messing around with someone!” Nico's voice was conspiratorial, but Lance wasn't fooled. “Especially someone you haven't even brought home to meet your mother. She isn't Catholic, is she?” he fake-gasped.

 

“Why do you even care?” Lance said tonelessly.

 

“Because, Primito, I don't want you thinking you can go trusting people with certain secrets that don't need to be told.” The playful ribbing was gone, just as Lance knew it would be. “They might  _ seem _ relevant, in a way, when you're ‘playing paintball’ with whatever vampire you're sleeping with, but trust me, you don't want me to find out you've broken your promise.” His eyes darkened and Lance dropped his head so that he was shorter than Nico. 

 

“I haven't,” Lance managed. He was shaking though, out of fear or anger he wished he was certain. 

 

“It's not even a big deal, you know. You're just taking it too seriously.” Nico leaned casually on the recycle bin next to him. “They'd never believe you anyway.” 

 

As much as Lance hoped Nicolas’ words were false, everything he knew told him otherwise. His aunt would hate him. His parents would brush it off. His siblings would believe Nico. They'd always liked him. Keith… what would Keith think? He was damaged. Irreparably. And he wasn't worth someone like Keith's time anyway. What if Keith found out? How would he even tell Keith anyway? It wasn't exactly something he could just  _ say _ .

 

He swallowed the panic as it tried to roll over him. He needed to get out of here, but there was no way in Hell he was talking to Keith on the phone like this. This whole thing was a terrible idea. Every last piece of it. He should've never even offered to go on the Florida trip in the first place, despite how much he missed the palms and the sudden rain storms and the calls of seabirds on the wind. He'd been a fool to think it would welcome him back without Nico being there to cast an ugly shadow that Lance felt trapped beneath. He steeled himself and returned to the table rigidly, but with as neutral a face as he could conjure. When he checked his phone he had a text from Hunk. 

 

(13:14)  _ You look like you're about to cry. I'm getting you out of here.  _

 

“Oh shoot! Lance, I just got a text from my section leader!” He waved his phone in Lance's face. “The bus is leaving soon! Looks like the hotel was able to get us checked in early!”

 

“Darn, looks like we've got to go,” he tried to sound disappointed, but it felt like he could hardly draw enough air into his lungs to even speak. “It was nice to see you Tía! Nico.” Lance stood to hug his aunt and held his breath through the polite embrace Nico pulled him into. 

 

“See you at the game, Primito.”

 

Lance turned and didn't look back as they left the mall and Hunk led him back to the charter bus that wouldn't even be boarding for another forty-five minutes. By some stroke of luck, the driver was still on board and had turned on the air conditioner so a few students could nap in the back of the bus. Lance and Hunk found their seats and Lance immediately collapsed into his, grabbing his backpack and hugging it tight to his chest. When the corner of one of his books dug into his hip and he remembered the bruises he still had there as well, he pressed into it harder in an attempt to ground his brain and keep it from going where it'd been forbidden to enter. He hadn't even noticed the tears streaming down his face.

 

“Is there something I can do?” Hunk whispered next to him. 

 

Lance shook his head. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

He was met with the same sign.

 

“Should I call Keith?” 

 

“Please don't,” Lance croaked, glancing over at Hunk finally. Hunk was taken aback by the fear he found in Lance's features. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Lance quite like this. “I'll be fine, really.” 

 

“Lance…”

 

“Please Hunk, I'm begging you. Let it go. I can't do this right now.”

 

Hunk nodded. He sat back in his chair and after the tears stopped rolling down Lance's cheeks he offered his shoulder and neck pillow to Lance who gladly accepted. Lance napped until Hunk woke him up to get off the bus back at the hotel. He had a text from Keith.

 

(14:10)  _ How'd it go? _

 

(14:42) About how I expected, but we're at the hotel now. Miss you.

 

(14:43)  _ Miss you too, babe. Do you know how boring the art building is without you coming in to disrupt my painting? I haven't hit my head on my lamp once!  _

 

(14:44) Sounds like you just aren't trying hard enough. G2g. Gotta get settled in before rehearsal tonight. Text me if you want tho. I'll respond as I can. 

 

___________________________________________________

 

Lance felt numb, if he was being honest, as he trailed Hunk through the warm-lit hallways of the hotel to find the large conference room DW had booked for music rehearsal. Dinner was being provided for them afterwards, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to eat it. Once everyone had settled in, one of his section mates began the routine bit of pranks and antics at the expense of the musicians around him, starting by snatching a sax player's hat using the end of his trombone slide. Normally, Lance might chuckle at that, or begin the who-can-steal-the-weirdest-thing-using-only-their-instrument game, but he remained quiet and unfocused in his seat. Dr. Wimbleton-Smythe stepped up to the front of the room and the group tuned briefly before they did a full run-through of basically every song in their stands-tunes flip folders. Lance had many of them memorized. 

 

Halfway through rehearsal, DW called up “Hey, Baby,” a crowd and band favorite. The sousas kicked it off and everyone stood up to dance and sing their rendition of the tune originally by Bruce Channel. As it went on, Lance found himself unable to temper the smile that slowly returned to his face. He remembered why he’d found his place among band kids and why he tended to surround himself with music and noise as the song seeped into his mind and quieted the deafening sound of his inner-voice berating and accusing him of things his logical brain was starting to believe. It was silly, and perhaps only a mechanism to avoid his real problems, but he clutched onto it and rode the wave of contentment to the end of rehearsal and through dinner. He and Hunk returned to their shared hotel room before their two other roommates, two other sousaphone players. Hunk jumped in the shower and Lance made himself comfortable on the giant bed they'd be sharing.

 

(19:13) Hey you :3

 

(19:18)  _ Hey! How was rehearsal? _

 

(19:18) Good. It's kind of nice to just play sometimes, you know?

 

(19:21)  _ Definitely. I'm actually gonna mess around a bit on my guitar tonight after work since Pidge will be busy doing something with the deep fryer? Or something? Remind me again why your fraternity has a giant deep fryer? _

 

(19:23) Fundraising. Everybody loves funnel cake and deep fried Oreos. 

 

(19:24)  _ Deep fried Oreos? _

 

(19:26) KEITH ARE YOU SERIOUS?!

 

(19:27) YOU'VE NEVER HAD A DEEP FRIED OREO?! PIDGE HAS FAILED YOU AS A FRIEND

 

(19:29)  _ I guess you'll just have to take me to get one :P Pidge mentioned something about a pumpkin festival in a small town in a few weeks? She says it's on a bye-week so there's no football game. _

 

(19:31) Oh yeah! I forgot about that! As prospective members we're invited to come help run the fryer, actually. That sounds awesome, babe. I'd love to go with you to Pumpkin Fest.

 

(19:32) But yeah, they're rolling it out of the trailer tonight to make sure everything is up to par and ready to go since that'll be its first gig this season.

 

(19:33)  _ Makes sense. And yay :) _

 

(19:35) You close tonight? 

 

_ (19:38) Nah I'm off at 10pm _

 

(19:39) Only two more hours :P

 

_ (19:41) Ugh don't remind me :P _

 

“Shower’s all yours, buddy,” Hunk called to Lance from the sink which was located awkwardly outside of the room with the shower and toilet. As he passed him with his bag of toiletries, Lance felt Hunk's eyes on him. 

 

“I'm alright, Hunk. Really.” 

 

“I don't believe you, but okay.” 

 

“It's complicated. Some shit went down a long time ago when my aunt and her kids lived with us during her divorce. Her ex-husband was abusive and manipulative, and it rubbed off a little on Nico. He was just a bully.” Lance recited the lie he'd gone over again and again in his head since seeing Nico that afternoon. He hoped desperately that it would satisfy his best friend's concern. 

 

“Abusive? Did he hurt you, Lance?” Hunk turned to face him. “I… saw you flinch away from him earlier.” 

 

Lance's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. Tears threatened to spill as they filled his eyes. A barrage of  _ TELL HIM  _ and  _ YOU CAN'T _ spun wildly around his head as he tried to quell the tightening in his chest. 

 

Hunk frowned and carefully reached a hand out to touch Lance's shoulder. 

 

“Sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm just worried is all. Whatever happened, surely Nico wouldn't do it now. You were kids when he was like that. Hopefully he's different as an adult?”

 

Lance forced himself to nod, mostly to reassure himself. 

 

“You're right. Thanks Hunk. I appreciate it.”

 

“No problem.” The expression on Hunk's face relaxed and Lance knew he'd succeeded for now. Retreating into the bathroom, he quickly turned on the shower as hot as he could stand as the tears returned to stream down his face. He resisted the urge to scrub his skin raw as it crawled at the thought of hugging Nico goodbye earlier. 

 

_ I'm fine. I'm safe. Hunk is here. Nico is not. Get it together, Lance! _

 

He listened intently to the sounds of the water hitting the tile around him, grounding himself to the present and chaining his brain to the moment instead of allowing it to flit around in the darkness of his thoughts.

 

Hunk had fallen asleep by the time Lance snuck into bed with him. Their other roommates lay snoring as well, one in the other bed and one on the small sofa. Thankfully, the trip had worn him out and the pillow that he snuggled into was soft and inviting. Smiling at the goodnight text from Keith, he drifted off to sleep.


	11. Wine and Bacardi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a confrontation over the phone between Lance and Nico (it's at the end of the chapter).
> 
> Since the holidays are drawing ever closer, and because this chapter skirts around some of Keith's (my) mental processes that puts me in my feels, I wanted to tell all you lovely people that if, like me, "the most wonderful time of the year" isn't quite so wonderful for you, I get it. Bad memories suck and people aren't always who you wish they were. But the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and there are people out there who love you. 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with us this far, and allowing us to share our stories. <3
> 
> -Dunu

It was turning out to be a lazy Saturday. Keith slept in a bit (8am was sleeping in, right?) and got some errands done before heading to campus to finish the painting he'd started earlier in the week. He really enjoyed being alone while he worked, so he could blast music and pace the floor without worrying about disturbing anyone. Occasionally there would be others working in the building, but it was rare that he had to share the painting room, and he’d gotten pretty good at figuring out when other people tended to show up. He never came in on Sunday nights.

 

After several dedicated hours and a bowl of noodles from a downtown shop later, he decided he was satisfied with his work and went to hit up the rec center before heading home. He wasn't sure what he was going to do for the rest of the day though. Pidge and Matt were out doing Kappa things, and he really didn't have the discipline to do any more artwork, independent or otherwise. He was finishing his last circuit at the gym when an idea occurred to him. 

 

(14:47) Hey Allura, it's Keith, I pulled your number from the group chat, hope that's okay. Was wondering if you had any Disney recommendations? I'm not doing anything the rest of the day and figured this would be a valuable use of time

 

_ (14:52) This is an EXCELLENT use of free time! Do you have Netflix?  _

 

(14:54) Glad you approve :P and yep

 

_ (14:55) Okay that works, I know there are a couple classics on there. Could I come over and watch too? I need a study break DX  _

 

(14:57) Haha, sure I don't mind. I'm finishing up at the gym, I'll let you know when I'm home

 

_ (15:01) Omg if you're already out you should pick up booze, it makes watching even better _

 

Keith chuckled to himself.

 

(15:03) Sure why not. You want anything? 

 

_ (15:05) I mean if you don't mind, I'll totally get you back. Double-sized bottle of Moscato? Cheapest works :) _

 

(15:07) *sigh* I suppose, but my opinion of you just fell :P

 

_ (15:09) I am not ashamed :P _

 

Still smiling, Keith put his phone away to finish his workout. He was looking forward to getting to know Lance's friends better, and he liked what he'd seen of Allura so far.

 

After making a quick stop at the grocery store for the requested wine for Allura and a couple bottles for himself, Keith headed home to shower and pick up the living room a bit. Realizing that the mark Lance had left on his neck was still a little too noticeable, he threw on a light hoodie so that it wouldn't be visible. Once he was done, he shot Allura his address and plopped on the couch with a glass of wine to begin scrolling Netflix. Within minutes there was a knock at the door.

 

“It's open!” He didn't look up from the tv. “I know we live, like, a  _ mile _ from each other, but you must've gotten here in record time…” he looked up and realized she was standing in the open doorway. “What?”

 

“What're those?” she demanded without preamble. 

 

He looked at her blankly. “What're what?”

 

“On your face!”

 

Keith’s hands moved to feel his features. “My glasses?”

 

“Are those real?!”

 

“Yes? Why're you freaking out?!”

 

“You are  _ not allowed  _ to be this cute!”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, taking a big gulp of wine to hide the flush creeping up his neck. “My contacts don't come in until Monday. Are you coming in or what.”

 

She smirked but shut the door, hauling a bag of snacks and movies onto the counter. “Has Lance seen you in those?”

 

“No, why?”

 

“He definitely needs to.”

 

“Are we watching a movie or did you just come over to make fun of me?”

 

Allura poured herself a glass of Moscato and sauntered over to the couch. “Why not both?” Keith groaned theatrically while she laughed at him. “What're you drinking?”

 

“Gewürztraminer.”

 

“Bless you.”

 

He gave her a long-suffering look. “Why did I invite you over?”

 

“Disney movies!” she exclaimed, looking at the screen over her own glass of wine. “Ooh! Hercules, put that one on, it’s perfect!”

 

Keith made a face.

 

Allura’s eyebrows went up. “What?”

 

“I actually  _ like _ Greek mythology, this is probably gonna be painful.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Just put it on. And how about we make it into a drinking game? You have to drink every time you laugh, because I  _ guarantee _ you will be laughing.”

 

Keith smirked at her. “Alright, you’re on.”

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


_ (16:41) Your boyfriend is THE WORST _

 

Lance’s phone had been going off intermittently for a little while now. Allura's message was the first one he saw, but he noticed he had well over a dozen messages from Keith as well. Slightly worried, he decided to talk to Allura first. 

 

(16:48) Are you being dramatic or should I be concerned? 

 

_ (16:49) First of all… fair point _

 

_ (16:49) Second, he keeps calling Hercules a bro and he is ACTIVELY ROOTING FOR HADES _

 

_ (16:50) Or as *he* calls him, GAYDES _

 

Lance stared at his phone for a solid minute before switching threads to see Keith's messages.

 

_ (15:10) Hope you're having a good day :) Allura is coming over to watch Disney movies. I'll keep you updated _

 

_ (15:43) We're starting with Hercules kill me now _

 

_ (15:47) Zeus and Hera did *not* have a loving relationship nor were they both Hercules’ parents but okay _

 

_ (15:49) Zeus that was a terrible dad joke _

 

_ (15:51) What are these imp things?  _

 

_ (15:53) Gaydes CANNOT DEAL with The Fates lol _

 

_ (15:54) Gaydes hates verse omg _

 

_ (15:57) Aww poor Hercules no one wants to play _

 

_ (16:00) HERCULES NO YOU CAN'T DESTROY THE WHOLE MARKET THAT'S NOT HOW YOU MAKE FRIENDS _

 

_ (16:04) Yeah if a stone statue came to life I'd run too bud _

 

_ (16:11) I cannot handle Phil omg _

 

_ (16:15) Am I supposed to believe he went from twig to beefcake in like a week or something?? Cuz nah _

 

_ (16:18) Brah she's so out of your LEAGUE _

 

_ (16:20) Cuz she's on Team Gaydes! _

 

_ (16:21) Aww Team Gaydes is River Guardian-less </3 _

 

_ (16:24) Damn these Thebians give NO FUCKS they want a Class-A hero or NOTHIN _

 

_ (16:26) No what just set the rock back down where tf did you just throw it?? _

 

_ (16:28) He’s LAUGHING at you bro, are you gonna take that??? _

 

_ (16:30) Wow dude is NOT bright, look how many heads there are, idiot _

 

_ (16:35) Omg they bought his merch XD _

 

_ (16:37) Ohhhh snap I should’ve given Gaydes more credit on his manipulation game _

 

_ (16:40) Girrrl. She is puttin’ the MOVES on that poor boy _

 

_ (16:48) Gaydes being the Gay Best Friend™ I cannot _

 

_ (16:50) Jesus his horse is as weak as he is _

 

_ (16:52) You fuckin idiot why would you go make a deal with Gaydes YOU BARELY KNOW THIS CHICK CALM DOWN _

 

Lance was doubled over laughing in his seat, to the consternation of everyone around him. Fighting to get his giggles under control he began typing a reply. 

 

(16:54) Oh my god what did I just read XD

(16:55) Allura is so upset!

 

_ (16:57) I know she keeps THROWING CHIPS AT ME HALP _

 

(16:59) From the sound of it you brought this on yourself lol

 

He switched back to Allura's thread. 

 

(17:00) He's been live-texting me the whole thing this is ridiculous XD 

 

_ (17:01) IMAGE SENT _

 

(17:01) IMAGE RECEIVED

 

Lance almost fell off the bench when he opened the photo to see Keith sitting cross-legged on the floor against the couch, his face flushed, likely due to the mostly empty wine bottle nearby, and wearing  _ glasses _ ?! Chips littered the floor around him and he was laughing, presumably at something that had happened in the movie, and Lance could not handle how adorable he looked. 

 

(17:03) Ugh it is not fair that you get to hang out with my boyfriend and I don't! And are those glasses real?!

 

_ (17:04) THAT'S WHAT I SAID _

 

(17:05) Ugh he's so cuuuuute. I'm setting that as his contact photo in my phone. 

 

Lance looked up from his phone just in time to watch their team score a touchdown. He nearly threw the device in an effort to lift his horn to his face, but caught it and shoved it into his armpit. They played the university's fight songs as the football went sailing through the goalposts at the other end of the field. The small section of away game fans erupted in cheers. With only a few seconds left in the second quarter, their team would hold the lead into halftime. Lance tapped Keith's name in his inbox once the drum major put her hands back down to her sides and the home band took the field for their show.

 

(17:12) We might actually win this game! 

 

_ (17:13) That'd be a relief after last season. You having fun? _

 

(17:15) I think it'd be more fun to watch Disney movies with you. Omg save Lilo and Stitch for when I get back. I do not want to miss you experiencing the complete tear-jerker that is that movie. 

 

_ (17:16) Hate to disappoint, but I don't cry at movies _

 

(17:17) Challenge accepted. 

 

_ (17:19) What kind of name is Stitch anyway? _

 

(17:22) A name for an alien dog. What would you name your alien dog, oh great name-guru?

 

_ (17:24) I dunno, it's an alien dog, right? I think I'd just wait for it to tell me it's name. It's presumptuous to assume it doesn't already have one.  _

 

Lance couldn't help but giggle at that. 

 

_ (17:26) Also, overall, Hercules was good. I hate the parts of the mythology that were just wrong, but Gaydes and the Muses totally saved it for me. Allura just started the Little Mermaid. What have I agreed to? _

 

(17:29) Only one of the best Disney movies ever. The music is great. 

 

_ (17:31) I'm holding you to that. You've upped my expectations. If I'm disappointed there will be consequences when you return. ;) _

 

(17:32) I am unsure whether to be frightened or intrigued. 

 

_ (17:33) Considering I'm drunk, and I miss you, and I'm staring at a screen with so much blue on it it covers my whole living room, I'd say intrigued.  _

 

(17:35) Wait what does the screen being blue have to do with it? 

 

_ (17:37) …uh…nothing?  _

 

(17:38) Lies

 

A text from Allura interrupted their string of messages. 

 

_ (17:38) OH MY GOD HE'S SO EMBARRASSED WHAT JUST HAPPENED? _

 

(17:40) I DON'T KNOW YOU'RE THE ONE HANGING OUT WITH HIM FIGURE IT OUT

 

A message from Keith previewed across the top of his phone. 

 

_ (17:41) Stop ganging up on meeeee _

 

(17:42) Explain the blue thing and I will. 

 

_ (17:46) Allura is determined. She paused the movie. _

 

(17:47) Don't underestimate her abilities. She has methods. 

 

As the game picked back up, the band played a few times before his phone buzzed again. It was Allura.

 

(18:08)  _ INFORMATION EXTRACTED. BLUE DISTRACTS HIM BECAUSE IT REMINDS HIM OF YOU AND YOUR EYES I THINK I JUST DIED THIS BOY IS TOO PURE _

 

(18:11) Awwww oh my god that is so sweet gah <3 

 

He switched to Keith's thread. 

 

(18:12) You are TOO CUTE omfg

 

_ (18:13) She said she wasn't gonna tell youuuu _

 

(18:14) She lied. But only because she knew I'd think that was the most adorable thing I've ever heard in my entire life <3 

 

_ (18:16) WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT. HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE. THIS GIRL IS HOW OLD? _

 

(18:17) Huh?

 

_ (18:18) ARIEL. SHE IS SIXTEEN YEARS OLD. WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS?  _

 

_ (18:23) OH DO YOU LOVE HIM, ARIEL? DO YOU? _

 

(18:25) Babe weren't you in love at 15?

 

_ (18:26) EXACTLY, Lance. And look how THAT panned out.  _

 

_ (18:28) Also why are all Disney villains queer as shit? Like Ursula could be a literal drag queen. I'm digging it, but am also ignoring the obvious social implications of the Big Bad Gay™ _

 

(18:30) Yeahhh, with some of the older ones it’s kinda like that. The more recent ones are better about it

 

_ (18:32) I have never related to an animated character more _

 

(18:34) Which one? 

 

_ (18:35) Sebastian _

 

(18:37) Um. How much wine have you had? Lol

 

_ (18:38) Well into the second bottle, Allura needs to catch tf up _

 

Lance got another media file from Allura. This time Keith was sprawled on the couch with his hoodie riding up a bit over one of his hips, which Lance found incredibly distracting. He seemed to have given up on using a glass since he just had the whole bottle of wine clutched in one hand as he lounged against the pillows, and he had a relaxed smile on his face that brought a similar expression to Lance’s own. One of the trombone players next to him, a friend of his, happened to glance over at his phone screen.

 

“Woah, is that the Keith guy Claire was upset about the other day?” She looked up and noticed the flush across Lance's face. He nodded nervously. She giggled. “He's hot.” 

 

Lance sighed in relief and grinned up at her.

 

“Isn't he though!?”

 

_ (18:40) Oh no, he notiabdkg8eo _

 

(18:40) Uhh…

 

(18:44) Allura?

 

He switched to Keith's thread. 

 

(18:45) Keith? 

 

(18:47) Did something happen?

 

_ (18:50) ALLURA LOST HER PHONE PRIVILEGES FOR SNEAKILY TAKING PICTURES OF ME _

 

(18:52) Aww, but the pictures were so cute! 

 

_ (18:53) Wait she was sending them to you?! _

 

For the second time during the football game, Lance could not control his laughter. His section mate who'd seen the messages come through also lost it as he explained the situation. 

 

(18:56) Of course she was, I mean it's not like I'm there to ogle you myself, and you have glasses and didn't tell me it gives you an unfair cuteness advantage and I needed to be made aware of what I'm up against :P

 

_ (18:58) Oh whatEVER I still haven't forgotten that video you sent me ;P _

 

(18:59) I'd be offended if you had ;)

 

“First and goal! Lance, pay attention!” His section leader hissed at him from down the row. 

 

“Sorry!” he cheesed. As he laid his phone on the bench it buzzed again, but he ignored it in favor of not pissing Sam off (again) until after their team won this game.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Keith was staring open-mouthed at the screen.

 

“What is he doing?!”

 

Allura lay on the couch with her legs across his lap; the bottle of moscato was nearby and mostly empty. She quirked an eyebrow at him as she took a dainty sip from her glass. “He’s going after them, obviously.”

 

“In a DINGHY?!”

 

“Well, yeah, what else is he supposed to do? Wait, no, stop…” she pleaded, laughing, as Keith began to chug the last of his wine. “Why?”

 

“They’re so  _ stupid _ !”

 

That just made her laugh harder. Some wine sloshed out of her glass as she doubled over, wiping away tears. “Oh my god, Lance should be here for this. You’re so distraught right now!”

 

Keith set the now empty bottle down, letting out a breath. “Heh, yeah, I wish he were here…” he smiled fondly.

 

“You should tell him that.”

 

Keith turned to look at her confusedly. “Why?”

 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Explain your question.”

 

He scoffed. “We’ve been dating a  _ week _ . Not even! I don’t want him to think I’m clingy.”

 

“Pfft. Not possible. I mean this with the utmost love and affection for that boy, but there is  _ no one _ clingier than Lance. He would probably die of happiness if you told him you missed him.”

 

Keith’s already red face flushed even deeper and he ran a flustered hand through his hair. “Yeah, well… I don’t tell people that stuff.”

 

“Why not?” she demanded.

 

“Because!”

 

“That’s not a reason!” She withdrew her legs and crossed them under her so she could lean towards him. “Try again.”

 

He rolled his eyes and didn’t answer, opting instead to get up and investigate the freezer for more booze. Allura watched as he made a  _ very _ strong looking rum-and-Dr. Pepper, leaning over the side of the couch and waiting. After taking a long pull from the drink, Keith leaned against the counter.

 

“Like I said, we haven’t even been dating a week. Hell, we  _ barely _ even know each other! I don’t wanna, like, freak him out, or scare him off because I fell for him so fast.” Keith took another irritated gulp from his glass, unable to will his face back to a normal color.

 

“But you  _ did _ ,” Allura pressed. 

 

“Yeah, but  _ he _ doesn’t have to know that,” he responded contrarily.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Now we’re just going in circles.”

 

“You're afraid to push him away,” she observed, almost to herself as she touched her chin thoughtfully, “so you’re withholding.”

 

“Sure, I guess.” He took another moody swig.

 

“But that’s just going to create different problems.”

 

He quirked an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

 

“Lance is extremely affectionate. He’s always been that way, even with his friends. It’s kind of his coping mechanism, he wants to make people happy all the time. He goes out of his way to make everyone smile. Genuinely. So if you withhold those feelings from him, he's going to notice, and he's going to think it's because he's not good enough for you.” She refilled her wine glass. “I honestly don't know that much about who Lance was before I met him, but I've seen him at his lowest point in the last year. He's plagued with anxiety and obsesses over how other people perceive him. I'm no expert, but I've suspected there's an underlying reason for it for a while. All that said, he's an empath and can tell when people are lying or half-truthing their way through an interaction. I'm drunk, and not particularly perceptive, and I'm noticing your inhibition. You’re afraid of being genuine with people. Lance will catch on.” She sighed at the terrified expression that crossed Keith's face. “I'm trying to help you, not scare you.”

 

Keith blinked at her. “First off, you're remarkably coherent for how much wine you've had. Second, you got all of that from knowing Lance for a  _ year _ ?”

 

“I mean, we’ve spent a lot of time together, between band camp, trips, and living together for the last couple months. You sound surprised, a year is a long time. I mean, how long have you known Matt and Pidge?”

 

He thought about it for a moment. “Feels like forever. Might be closer to… I dunno, fifteen years?”

 

“How long did it take you to open up to them?”

 

“I was, like seven? Seven-year-olds don’t have filters.”

 

“Wow, so it goes back that far then.”

 

Keith opened his mouth, then shut it again. Then finished his drink and started making another.

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have anymore, that last one looked like it was half bacardi…”

 

He shrugged, continuing anyway. “Pidge and Matt know about my problems because they were literally there when my life self-destructed. Several times. And I don't really want to subject Lance to all of…this.” He gestured vaguely to himself.

 

“So… what you’re saying is, if Pidge and Matt hadn’t physically been there they probably wouldn’t know either?”

 

Keith thought for a moment. “Yeah, pretty much. The last couple bombs went off in high school and it’s not like I could’ve avoided them at that point, even if I wanted to.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

He snapped his mouth shut again. Allura rolled her eyes, taking another drink from her glass. “You’re being ridiculous.”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered.

 

She levelled a stern look at him. “Do whatever you want, I’m just trying to help.”

 

“I know. Sorry.” He apologized, sighing heavily. “It’s just a lot.” He took another drink, and made his way back over to the couch. “I'm used to Pidge's weird mind-reading skills. Not used to other people doing it.”

 

“All I'm saying is Lance is the kind of guy who will be thrilled that you're so into him. If you hadn't noticed, he's an all or nothing sort of person. And he trusts you.” 

 

“Not with everything,” Keith mumbled behind his cup. 

 

“Well that was broody and mysterious.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Do you know anything about his cousin Nico? One of the ones still living in Florida?”

 

Allura thought for a moment. “He's mentioned his aunt, but said they don't talk much to that side of the family.” She cast a puzzled expression into her wine. “He seems fond of her, but distant from his cousins… those ones in particular, anyway. Why?”

 

Keith toyed with his glass. “He seemed really upset at the idea of having to see him. Every time it came up in conversation or he texted his family about it I could tell something was wrong. He didn’t want to get into it, and I can respect that, I mean, obviously,” he rolled his eyes at himself, “but I’m worried about him.”

 

She drained her glass, the thoughtful expression still on her face. “I wouldn’t know anything about that. Out of character though, he’s super close with his family from what I can tell.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”

 

Allura grabbed the bottle of moscato and frowned at it upon realizing it was empty. She shrugged and took the drink out of Keith’s hand and took a tentative sip. He looked amusedly at her as she gagged. “You know I can just make you one, right?”

 

“Can mine be drinkable?” She pleaded as she handed it back, face still contorted. “Why are you doing that to yourself?”

 

He looked sheepish. “I’m… like,  _ really _ drunk, I can’t taste it.”

 

“But we’ve had the same amount to drink…and you’re bigger than me…” she narrowed her eyes at him. When he just grinned instead of replying, she took stock of the snacks and then glared at him. “What have you eaten today?” she demanded.

 

“Uhh…”

 

“Answer. The  _ question _ .” 

 

Keith put his hands up in surrender. “I will, just put the scary face away, I had Noodles and Company for lunch in the art building.”

 

“Okay, what else?”

 

He grinned wider and lifted his hands.

 

“Oh,  _ hell _ no, gimme that,” she snatched the glass out of his hand before he could stop her. 

 

“Alluraaaaa,” he whined, slumping over the back of the couch as she walked into the kitchen. “Give it baaaack.”

 

“Food first.” She pulled her phone from between the couch cushions behind Keith as she went into the kitchen to mix a drink for herself. “Options are pizza, subs, mexican, or chinese. Pick.”

 

“Can we order pizza and make Shiro deliver it?”

 

Allura grinned at him. “Duh. Also, put in another movie.”

 

Thirty minutes later, there was a knock at the door that was barely heard over Keith’s shouting.

 

“WHY DID YOU TOUCH THE JEWEL YOU STUPID MONKEY, WHAT DID THE SAND TIGER  _ JUST FUCKING TELL YOU _ ?!”

 

Allura opened the door to see a very concerned Shiro who was about to knock again. “I was going to ask why I was requested to deliver this order,” he said without preamble, “but I think I just figured it out…”

 

“Shiro!” Keith clumsily leapt over the back of the couch to get to the door, almost face-planting in the process. “You brought me food! This is Allura, she’s friends with Lance.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Shiro smiled at her as he handed her the receipt to sign. “How much have you had to drink?” he asked, addressing Keith as he handed him the pizzas.

 

“Who, me? Not a thing, why?”

 

Allura snorted as she returned the slip.

 

“Uh-huh. Good call on the pizza,” he said to Allura. “Are you watching Aladdin?”

 

“Yeah, Keith let slip he hasn’t seen any Disney movies the other day, so we’re educating him. Lance is still in Florida, but he’s been getting updates.” She smiled amusedly over her shoulder as Keith awkwardly crawled back over the couch, still holding the boxes. She lowered her voice. “He’ll be fine, I made his last ‘drink’ but didn’t put anything in it, he’s so drunk he doesn’t know it’s just Dr. Pepper.”

 

Shiro chuckled. “He seems like he’s doing better, glad things are working out with Lance. Thanks for taking care of him, by the way. Though to be honest, I’m kinda surprised he’s letting you.”

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

Shiro shrugged. “Keith doesn’t usually let his guard down.”

 

“So you’ve known him for a while?”

 

“Just since he came to school, Matt Holt got him set up working with me. But Matt talks about him all the time, I mean they’re essentially brothers, and Keith seems to give him plenty to worry about, so it’s nice to see him relaxed and having fun.”

 

Allura smiled. “Seems like he’s got a lot of good people looking out for him.”

 

“Goodness knows he needs it.” Shiro shook his head. “You two have a good night.”

 

When Allura closed the door, she saw Keith was in the kitchen pouring himself a shot, and looking extremely guilty when he saw her noticing. “Oh my god, you do  _ not _ need any more!” He quickly downed it and ran back to the couch. She shook her head at him. “You are  _ officially _ cut off!”

 

“Booo,” he complained, taking a bite of pizza.

 

She rolled her eyes at him as her phone buzzed and she realized she had a couple messages from Lance.

 

_ (19:02) Finally got back to the hotel. Did you get your phone back yet? _

 

_ (19:08) Guessing not, lol _

 

(19:36) Sorry, Keith has been a handful. But yeah, I got it back lol

 

_ (19:37) Is he okay? He hasn’t been responding either…  _

 

(19:39) Oh, he’s fine, just drunk and probably forgot what a phone is. Gimme a sec

 

“Hey drunkie, where’s your phone?”

 

“Hnng?” He glanced up, mouth full of pizza.

 

She glanced around and saw it on the counter by the rum. Sighing, she went to get it for him. “Your boyfriend has been texting you.”

 

“Really?” He sounded excited, practically snatching the phone from her hand to open the messages.

 

_ (18:22) We won the game!  _

 

_ (18:24) Also you got me in trouble :P _

 

_ (18:54) Finally back to the hotel :) I think we’re gonna go get dinner from one of the restaurants nearby _

 

_ (19:10) Hope you and Allura are having fun :) _

 

(19:42) Omg hi <3

 

(19:44) Sorry, my phone has been on the counter for a while

 

(19:45) I miss you :)

 

_ (19:46) No worries :) And I miss you too <3 _

 

(19:47) I can’t believe I have to wait til tomorrow to see yoouu

 

_ (19:49) Me too :/ Are you guys still watching Disney movies? _

 

(19:51) Is hard to focus but yes? Aladdin is on and the monkey is dumb but not as dumb as Eric from the mermaid one so I guess it’s better

 

_ (19:52) Lol you’re surprisingly coherent for the amount of alcohol I’m led to believe you’ve had :P Why is Eric dumb? _

 

(19:55) He went after Ursula and Ariel in a DINGHY

 

(19:56) And I haven’t had that much!

 

_ (19:56) Yeah I suppose he did lol _

 

_ (19:57) Aaaaand I don’t believe you :P <3 _

 

(19:58) I’m hurt </3 No trust

 

(20:00) Allura cut me off :’(

 

_ (20:01) Oh, I know :P _

 

(20:02) Oh do you

 

_ (20:04) Maybe I know lots of things ;) _

 

(20:05) Oh really

 

_ (20:07) Yeah :P _

 

(20:08) Do you know how much I wanna kiss you right now?

 

_ (20:10) Aaagh you’re ridiculously cute when you’re drunk, I cannot deal _

 

(20:12) Wouldn’t mind having you in my bed right now either… ;)

 

_ (20:13) Omg Keeeiith _

 

(20:14) For multiple reasons :P

 

(20:19) I like having you snuggled up against me and feeling how soft your skin is and playing with your hair and the way you laugh and how we talk about dumb stuff for hours and we lose track of time and the way you smile at me and make me feel special and just having you close and stuff

 

After a few minutes of agonizing silence, Allura began chuckling. “I think you broke Lance for real this time.”

 

“Well tell him I’m dying over here!” Keith shouted from the kitchen where he was loudly making another drink and getting ice all over the floor. Allura rolled her eyes, having given up on stopping him at this point, and turned her attention back to her phone.

 

_ (20:20) Allura I think I’m dead he just sent me something so effing cute like a whole paragraph _

 

_ (20:21) Where tf did that even come from?! _

 

_ (20:21) How much has he had to drink??? _

 

_ (20:22) Like is he in a drunken stupor or something I thought he seemed coherent but maybe I was wrong _

 

_ (20:23) Uuuugggghhh what do I do?! _

 

(20:25) Well maybe start by texting him back lol he’s currently in the kitchen making another drink to try to hide his embarrassment

 

(20:26) He’s drunk enough that he sent whatever he sent but sober (?) enough to be very aware that he just put himself out there and he told me to tell you he’s dying

 

She looked back over to where Keith was half-lying on the counter, one hand on his drink, the other holding his phone as he typed out another message.

 

Keith wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like he could think better from this angle.

 

(20:26) Hey sorry if I freaked you out I’m real drunk

 

_ (20:27) Haha, it’s fine _

 

_ (20:29) So like, does that mean… that you didn’t mean it? _

 

(20:30) That’s not what I said

 

(20:32) I’m just sorry if it freaked you out

 

(20:33) I mean I freaked myself out but I’m drunk enough that I pressed send sooo

 

_ (20:35) It didn't freak me out. I'm not gonna lie tho, I might be a giddy mess over it. That was really sweet, babe. I like being close to you and laughing and talking with you too. I could really use some cuddles right about now. _

 

_ (20:36) What do you mean you freaked yourself out? _

 

(20:37) Well, I happen to have many cuddles to give

 

(20:40) I dunno, just not super great at expressing feels

 

_ (20:42) Pffft your wonderful message that I most definitely did not screenshot and set as my phone background proves otherwise. I literally can't stop smiling like an idiot. I can't wait to get home tomorrow. <3 _

 

(20:43) I will be impatiently awaiting your return <3

 

_ (20:44) Baaaaaabe <3 <3 <3 _

 

Keith chuckled to himself. It seemed silly now that he was so worried about being open with Lance about his feelings. Lance wasn't going to judge him. And he hoped that if Lance felt uncomfortable about it he'd say so. He couldn't ignore the relief he felt knowing Lance felt the same way so far. He was already in it pretty deep. It would really suck if he was the only one who was in lo… 

 

_ Woah woah woah, what. Stop that, brain, I am not in love with Lance. We have been dating for like two seconds… Two incredible, amazing, exhilarating seconds, but seconds all the same. We aren't doing this. _

 

“You alright there?” Allura's voice drew Keith's attention away from his phone.

 

“Huh?”

 

“You were mumbling to yourself.”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Fine. Just um… thinking.” He felt his cheeks heat up even through the drunk flush across his face. 

 

“Mhmmm, thinking about  _ Lance _ …”

 

“Ugh, shut up,” Keith couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

 

“You like him  _ so much _ , oh my god, it’s so cute,” Allura grinned at him over the rim of her glass. 

 

Keith leaned over the back of the couch and covered his face with his hands. “I knowww, I don’t know what to dooo.”

 

“Him, obviously.”

 

When Keith didn't immediately respond, and instead turned an exquisite shade of crimson, Allura's eyes widened. “OH MY GOD, SHUT UP!” she shouted, whacking him with a pillow for emphasis. 

 

“GO AWAY,” Keith sank deeper into the cushions, trying to escape the onslaught of blows, still blushing furiously. 

 

“I don't even know why I'm  _ surprised _ ,” she resumed her previous position lounging against one end of the couch. “It's not like the two of you seem able to keep your hands off each other, and he's perpetually covered in bite marks…” She scrutinized him briefly. “You appear disappointingly unscathed.”

 

“‘Disappointingly?’” he grinned. 

 

“Romelle and I were talking the other day about what we thought he'd be like in bed. We agreed he's probably loud. I thought kinky, she thought romantic. So it would seem I lost a bet.”

 

“Little of both actually,” Keith mumbled into his glass, causing Allura to choke. 

 

“ _ Explain that _ ,” she demanded when she'd regained her composure. Keith sighed, standing to remove his hoodie. He got the article halfway off before Allura gasped. 

 

“My shirt is stuck to my hoodie, isn't it?” He wobbled slightly. 

 

“A little,” she laughed. “But I was noticing the claw marks on your stomach! I'm guessing those are from Lance considering I haven't seen a bobcat hanging around in your apartment.”

 

He managed to free himself from the sleeves before losing his balance and flopping back onto the couch. Tossing the loose fabric over his shoulder, he pulled the front of his shirt up to see for himself. Sure enough, there were four thin red lines straight down the middle. He vaguely remembered that. He was pretty sure there was something else demanding his attention whenever it happened though...

 

“Also, stop having abs, it's annoying.”

 

Keith smirked. “No.” He pulled his hoodie the rest of the way off and tossed it behind him into the kitchen. As soon as he resettled himself and pulled out his phone, Allura hit him over the head with the pillow again. 

 

“Ow! What was that for?!”

 

“What is that on your neck?!”

 

His hand subconsciously went to the still-purple mark at the base of his throat. “Oh yeah, that's what I was gonna show you.”

 

She shook her head. “He's ridiculous. You're  _ both _ ridiculous.”

 

He pretended to look hurt. “What did  _ I  _ do?”

 

“I saw the bruises you left on him last weekend! Who do you think took the video you were sent?”

 

Keith chuckled. “Speaking of, he's got a couple new ones too…”

 

She eyed him for a moment, smiling. “I'm beginning to suspect  _ you're _ the kinky one in this relationship.”

 

Keith shrugged and took another drink, unable to hide the sheepish grin on his face even behind his cup. 

 

“Interesting… I guess I’m not terribly surprised by any of that, then… except, does that mean Lance is a bottom?!”

 

Keith nearly spat his mouthful of rum and Dr. Pepper - mostly rum - across the living room. 

 

“Allura!”

 

“Sorry, too personal?”

 

“A little!” Keith laughed. “But also, I dunno. We haven’t gotten that far. And I’m not gonna push him.” 

 

“You both have marks like  _ that _ all over you, and  _ haven’t  _ had sex?”

 

Keith shook his head. 

 

“Nope. No way. Romelle loses. That’s kinky as shit.” 

 

Keith's phone vibrated. Thankful for a reason to turn his excruciatingly red face away from Allura, he opened the message from Lance. 

 

_ (21:12) OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU TAKING YOUR CLOTHES OFF? _

 

“Allura!” Keith whined. She giggled as a similar text message must’ve reached her phone as well. 

 

(21:14) I had to settle Allura and Romelle’s bet. I think Allura won. I dunno, I can’t keep it straight.

 

_ (21:15) Honey, we knew that ;) _

 

(21:17) UGH COME BACK ALREADY. 

 

_ (21:18) If I could, I’d already be back. Despite the win, the trip’s been sort of not great. But I’ll tell you about it later. I don’t want to ruin your drunken fun with my roommate. But keep your clothes on! _

 

(21:20) Will try. Promise. 

 

Allura started another movie on the television and returned to sit on the couch next to Keith, but neither of them honestly planned on making it through this one, the wine and rum beginning to weigh their eyelids past their ability to keep them open. As Keith pulled his legs up onto the cushion he lost his balance and leaned heavily into Allura’s shoulder, making them both giggle. He pulled the throw off the back of the couch and arranged it so they were both covered as the opening credits rolled. He was able to get one more text out of his hardly coherent brain before he gave in to sleep.

 

(21:25) And whatever it is, Lance, I’m here for you. Don’t worry about that, k?

 

_ (21:26) Okay <3 _

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Lance laid down in the hotel bed, freshly showered and determined to go to sleep without opening the six messages from Nico he’d received during the game. The sooner he went to sleep, the sooner he could wake up, get on a bus, two airplanes, and then another bus, take his membership quiz, and then snuggle up with his boyfriend in his own bed. Hunk had just got in the shower and it had been a few minutes since Keith had texted him. By the way Allura was mispelling things in her texts, he figured it wouldn’t be long before they were both passed out. He closed his eyes, but couldn’t get his mind to stop racing back to the notification light blinking at the top of his cell phone. Sighing heavily, and pulling the comforter over his head, he pulled his phone off the nightstand and rolled over to try to block as much light as possible from disturbing the other guys already asleep in the room; one on the other bed and one in the chair by the hotel room window because “it’s weird for guys to sleep in the same bed like that.” Lance rolled his eyes at the memory of that conversation from this morning. He steeled himself before opening the thread on his phone. 

 

(16:53)  _ You’re laughing so hard I can hear you from a whole section over, Primito.  _

 

(17:30)  _ Are you even watching the game? _

 

(17:46)  _ You’re talking to your girlfriend, aren’t you?  _

 

(18:15)  _ It’s rude to ignore someone when they can literally see you using your phone.  _

 

(18:33)  _ Look, I feel really bad about what I said earlier, okay? And about the thing that happened when we were kids. I was really fucked up back then. You know my dad was a piece of shit. My parents got divorced because of how dangerous he was. I don’t know exactly how to make it up to you, but I really need you to not tell anyone about it. I don’t know what I’d do if people knew.  _

 

(18:53)  _ I guess I understand why you don’t want to talk to me. I had just hoped we could put it behind us.  _

 

Lance stood silently and wrapped himself in the extra blanket from the foot of the bed, not saying a word as he grabbed the key card off the mini fridge and walked past Hunk as he emerged from the steam-filled bathroom. 

 

“Lance?” he whispered. Lance held up a hand that warned Hunk not to follow him as he ducked into the hallway and around the corner to the stairwell and down four floors to the exit. On his way down he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. His chest swirled with emotions he couldn’t even name. Part of him wanted to cry at the relief of having what happened to him validated by the man who’d denied and downplayed it so many times before. Part of him was terrified that this was a ploy to get Lance to let his guard down. Still another part of him wanted to vomit. All of him needed to scream. So as he angrily shoved the door to the parking lot open, he dialed Nico’s number and gripped his phone like it might try jump out of his palm. 

 

It rang twice before Nico answered. 

 

“Lance?”

 

“Silencio y  escuchame,” Lance began.

 

“Pero…” 

 

“¡Cállate!” 

 

Nico was silent. 

 

“Do you even know how I feel every time I see your name pop up on my phone?! No puedo  _ respirar _ cuando te veo en una foto.” His voice cracked in pain. “¡Tengo  _ pesadillas _ sobre ti!” The tears ran hot down Lance’s face. He was shouting at his phone like a basket case out in the middle of the parking lot. 

 

“¿Que quieres que haga?” Nicolas’ voice was quiet on the line. “I can’t change it, Lance. Ojalá pudiera. Lo siento mucho, Primito. You have to believe that.” The fury in Lance’s chest faltered as he swore he heard Nico sniffle. 

 

“No me hables de nuevo,” Lance said finally. “I can’t handle it. Leave me alone.” 

 

“Lance, we’re family.”

 

“No. No lo somos.” Lance failed to suppress a sob as it escaped his chest. 

 

“Te quiero, Primito.” 

 

“Fuck. Off.” 

 

Lance hung up the phone and sank to his knees, trying to catch his breath. That was when Hunk decided to make his way around the SUV he’d stopped short of when Lance started shouting. 

 

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that was Nico?”

 

Lance didn’t even look up. 

 

“C’mon Buddy, let’s get you to bed.” 

 

“He… Hunk he… I was…” 

 

Hunk joined him on the pavement and waited patiently for the words to come together. 

 

“When we were kids… Nico’s parents split up. It was bad. He and his mom and siblings had to come live with us. My dad had to call the cops on my uncle a few times before the divorce was finalized and Maria could move the kids to Orlando. While they were living with us… Nico did… things… to m-me…” Lance dared to look up at Hunk through his tears. When Hunk didn't seem to completely understand, Lance took a deep breath and forced the words out. “Nico molested me, Hunk. When I was eight.” They tasted like bile across his tongue.

 

“What?! Lance… I’m so sorry… Are you okay? That’s a stupid question, clearly you're not okay. Um… What can I do? Is there something I can do? How can I help you?”

 

“Hunk…”

 

“I can’t believe I shook  _ hands _ with that creep! Ooooh if I ever see him again! That fucking dirtbag… I oughta…”

 

“Hunk!”

 

Lance finally got Hunk’s attention. 

 

“Can you just… take me inside? I’m tired.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Come on.”


	12. Chicken Casserole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: 
> 
> Sorry it took so long to post, many distractions today, most of them named R3d. :P
> 
> TW for brief explanation of Lance's trauma, does not include explicit details, but please be aware. This chapter focuses more on caring for Lance than anything else.

When Keith woke up the next morning it took him a moment to adjust to his surroundings. He was in his bed, and sunlight filtered feebly through the blinds in the room. He spent several minutes trying to locate his phone where it was tangled in the blankets, mostly because he had somehow cocooned himself within them. The fact that his head throbbed with even the slightest movement didn't help either. 

 

He flinched away from the brightness of his phone screen and groaned as the time was illuminated to be 7:49am. Resigned to the fact that he was awake, and desperately thirsty, he wrapped himself in his comforter, grabbed his phone charger, and crept out into the living room. 

 

It was mercifully dim thanks to the blackout curtains, and Keith stumbled to the cabinet to find coffee. While he set up the pot he noticed the empty bottle of rum on the counter and vaguely remembered it being half full when he'd gotten it out.  _ Well that explains it. _ Once coffee was brewing, he quietly got a glass of water from the faucet and sank down to the kitchen floor near the wall outlet, arranging the thick blanket around him like a nest so he could be comfortable while he waited for his caffeinated salvation. 

 

“Oh my God, yes, coffee,” came the relieved voice of an equally hungover Allura who lay wrapped in the throw on the couch. “Glad to see you're alive.”

 

“Ditto,” Keith winced. “Creamer?”

 

“And sugar. Please.”

 

“What flavor? I have butter toffee, French vanilla, and caramel macchiato.” Keith scooted across the floor to the fridge.

 

“Fancy. Caramel macchiato sounds awesome.”

 

“It is.” He grabbed the requested flavor and heaved himself to his feet. Within a few minutes he and Allura were curled up on the couch in their respective blanket burritos cradling their coffee and wishing for the sweet release of death. 

 

“When did I go to my bed?” Keith asked as he scrolled through his texts looking for clues to help piece together the previous night.

 

“No idea,” Allura admitted. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply over her mug. Keith's phone buzzed with a notification. 

 

(08:02)  _ We are on the bus and headed for Orlando. I might sleep a lot during the next 7 hours. You still able to pick up Hunk today? _

 

(08:03) Absolutely. Safe travels, babe. Can't wait to see you. 

 

(08:04)  _ You're the best <3 _

 

“The band has begun it’s pilgrimage north.” Keith informed Allura, sipping carefully at the coffee he knew was still too hot. 

 

“They have another layover in Atlanta. I swear that airport is like a black hole. You can't land there without getting stuck in it for at least an hour,” Allura complained. 

 

“Oh my God,” Keith groaned as he read through his mostly incoherent Disney ramblings. “I can't believe I got _ this _ drunk…”

 

Allura laughed quietly. “Yeah me either, you couldn't be stopped. I tried to cut you off, like, three times. You almost toppled off the couch onto your head because you insisted on going over it instead of around.”

 

“That sounds about right,” he mumbled. “Did Shiro actually deliver pizza last night?”

 

“Yep!” Allura giggled. 

 

“Did I make a complete ass of myself?”

 

“I wouldn't say ‘complete ass,’ no. You did show me your battle scars from your ‘wrestling matches’ with my roommate, however…”

 

Keith sunk deeper into his comforter. 

 

“Oh, don't be embarrassed. If that's what you're into, who am I to judge? Lance's family  _ is  _ coming up for Family Weekend in a few weeks, though, so maybe do a little planning in advance for that,” she chuckled.

 

“Wait, like his parents?” Keith's eyes widened. 

 

“And probably Abuelita, Veronica and her son… Maybe her husband… they might bring Luis and Rachel. It's only about a two hour drive, but I think Lance mentioned they were able to snag a hotel room that weekend.” 

 

“Do you think he'll want to like, come out to them? Holy shit what if he wants me to meet them?!” Keith glanced up at her in panic. 

 

“You'll need to ask him about that. He's been wanting to come out to Veronica for a long time. With her around to defend him, and his family only being in town for a few days, it might actually be a really good time to do it.” She tilted her head. “You okay?”

 

“It's just… really important to me… that if they meet me at all, they like me… Lance clearly loves his family. I don't want to cause problems for them.”

 

“Word of advice: you want to impress them? Show them how much you really care about Lance. It worked on me.” 

 

Keith was quiet for a moment as he took that in. “What do you mean it worked on you?”

 

“Full disclosure, I was still a little suspicious of you until last night. But the way you talk about him… you've got it bad. And I think I can trust you not to hurt him. At least not unless he asks for it.” She kicked him, winking. “Mama Bear is gonna be a harder sell.”

 

“Mrs. McClain?”

 

“No. Hunk Garrett,” she giggled. 

 

_________________________________________________________

 

By the time the charter bus pulled into the university parking lot, Lance had had time to (silently) panic, cry, be comforted by Hunk, and sleep three times over. Needless to say, he was exhausted and dreading his membership quiz that he needed to take in…  _ shit. Fifteen minutes? _ They'd lost some time waiting for their luggage at the airport before loading the buses. As he got off the bus he saw Matt and Pidge leaning up against Matt's SUV. 

 

“I'll grab your stuff and put your horn away. Go take care of your quiz so you can come home. I'll make dinner.” Hunk gently squeezed Lance's shoulder, waved at the Holts, and turned to collect Lance's luggage. Lance forced a smile to his face and ran over to catch his ride. He scanned the lot as they drove off for signs of Keith, sighing in relief when he saw his boyfriend helping Hunk haul the three sousaphones from the bus to the band shed. 

 

“You look exhausted,” Pidge commented from the front seat. “Rough flight?”

 

“Crazy turbulence,” Lance lied. “I'm pretty tired. I'm honestly not terribly confident about taking this quiz.” 

 

Pidge cast a worried glance at Matt. 

 

“This is one of the hardest ones, but I think you can do it. Just remember the tricks Pidge taught you.” Matt smiled encouragingly in the rearview mirror. 

 

“Do you wanna recite a few things real quick?” Pidge peeked at him over her glasses. When their eyes met, Lance felt her analyzing him. She knew something was wrong. He saw it in the way her eyebrows furrowed. 

 

“N-no I'll be fine. Just nervous, I think.” He grinned at her. Her narrowed eyes informed him that she didn't buy it, but mercifully, she let it go. 

 

_ Keith wasn't kidding. She's a perceptive little thing. And Matt's an oblivious elephant.  _

 

They arrived at the large ensemble rehearsal hall with five minutes to spare, but Lance guessed that all the extra time in the world couldn't help him now. 

 

______________________________________

 

“I can't go into the specifics. I promised Lance I wouldn't tell either of you. Honestly, I've already said too much, but I'm really worried about him, so here we are.” Hunk had Keith and Allura seated at the dining table while he paced the walkway between the kitchen and the living room. 

 

“We've seen Lance have panic attacks before, but I've only seen them when he's literally blackout drunk, or in direct response to Claire. You said he was sober? During the initial one last night, I mean.” Allura rested her chin on one hand. Keith remained silent, wishing there was something he could say to even contribute to the discussion but coming up empty handed. Hunk nodded at her. “What triggered it?”

 

“That's the part I  _ really  _ can't tell you.” Hunk paused in his pacing to look at her. “I wasn't technically supposed to say anything.” 

 

Keith racked his brain. Lance had seemed totally normal over text yesterday. Flirty, even. They hadn't talked much today, but Lance had mentioned he'd be in and out. He'd said the trip kind of sucked, but hadn't even hinted as to why. The only time he'd been even remotely stressed or upset was right after he had lunch with his aunt and… 

 

“Nico,” Keith said aloud. By the serious expression on Hunk's face, he'd guessed correctly. “Did something happen? At the mall?”

 

“I'm not actually sure. That's the truth. But I did have to extract Lance from lunch Friday.” Hunk was doing his best to keep his promise, but his concern for Lance was winning out. 

 

“Did something happen after the mall?”

 

Hunk pressed his lips together. 

 

“So something about Lance's cousin triggered a panic attack,” Allura summarized. 

 

“Four of them,” Keith corrected. Hunk nodded. 

 

“And the usual coping techniques he uses didn't work?” Allura asked. 

 

“We didn't have any way to get a cool washcloth while we were traveling. I couldn't count breaths for him because we were trying not to draw attention to him. And I had to stop him from pinching his own arm. I was worried he was going to bruise himself.” Hunk huffed in defeat, plopping down into a chair. “Then he started poking the pre-existing bruises on his collar bone, but he said he couldn't feel them. So he tried one that I guess he apparently has on his hip?” Hunk looked pointedly at Keith. 

 

“Wait, what do you mean he was poking his bruises?” 

 

Allura interjected. 

 

“It's a repetitive subconscious self-soothing grounding behavior. Lance has quite a few of them, actually. He'll bounce his leg for one. He rubs his face a lot. But when he's really anxious, those are too subtle. He usually puts a cold or hot washcloth over his eyes. The temperature difference in a place that’s difficult to ignore keeps him grounded in the moment. It would seem when that sensation isn't an available avenue, he turns to dull pain in the form of pinching himself and touching his bruises.” Hunk and Keith looked incredulously at her. “In one of my pre-med classes, we talked about dealing with trauma patients in shock and what some patients staving off panic attacks look like. Self-soothing behavior is a sign that a patient is anxious and trying to ground themselves. Therapists will use those symptoms to gauge their clients’ levels of anxiety to avoid panic attacks while in session to keep therapy a positive, not-scary place.”

 

“So… you think Lance's response indicates some sort of trauma that surrounds his relationship with his cousin…” Keith tilted his head at Allura in puzzlement.

 

Allura scowled at the table. 

 

“Yes. And all of the possibilities I can think of, frankly, aren't pretty.”

 

Hunk's face was solemn. It was bad, whatever it was. A key in the front door made all three of them jump. Lance entered the house uncharacteristically quiet, the hood of his bomber jacket pulled over his head. Hunk returned to the kitchen to finish up the casserole he'd put in the oven. 

 

“Hey babe, how was the quiz?” Keith stood to greet Lance who had turned immediately to ascend the stairs. He stopped and heaved a sigh, most of his face hidden.

 

“We failed. We have to retake it before next Sunday.” There was a suspicious lack of emotion in his voice that broke Keith's heart. 

 

“I'm sorry, Lance. Hunk's making dinner. You wanna hang out down here?” Keith shifted so he could see Lance better on the stairs. His hand gripped the rail almost painfully. 

 

“Um, I sorta want to lay down for a minute. I'm really tired.”

 

“Okay. Can I come with you?”

 

Lance paused and Keith swore he saw him tense in what looked an awful lot like a stifled sob. His feet carried him closer to the foot of the stairs without his permission. 

 

“Um… yeah, actually… please?”

 

Keith shared a terrified glance with Allura before he rushed after Lance up the stairs. Lance had collapsed on his bed. Keith could just barely hear him crying into a pillow. He stopped short of the door, realizing suddenly that he had literally no idea how to help.

 

“Just…tell me what you need.”

 

“I don't even know,” came the muffled reply. 

 

“Do you want me to come sit with you?”

 

Lance made a sound in the affirmative, so Keith made his way into the room and sat at the edge of Lance's bed.

 

“Hunk told you, didn't he?”

 

“Only that you had some panic attacks and that you weren't feeling well.” Keith placed a hand gently on Lance's back. “Did something happen?”

 

“I yelled at Nico.” Lance turned his face away from Keith. 

 

“I bet he deserved it.” 

 

“He did.” Lance sounded angrier than Keith had ever heard him. 

 

“Lance, did Nico hurt you?”

 

There was no reply. 

 

“Hey,” Keith prodded softly, “you don't have to talk about it.”

 

“No. No, I do. I just don't know how.”

 

Lance rolled over, the light from the landing barely illuminating his face. 

 

“What are you afraid of?” 

 

“I don't know anymore. Rejection. Being alone. Myself.”

 

“I'm not gonna reject you, and I'm not going anywhere. Promise.”

 

Lance sat up, kicked his shoes off, and scooted farther into the bed, allowing Keith to do the same. Keith all but pulled Lance into his lap, hugging him to his chest and sweeping a hand through his hair. 

 

“I don't know how to do this…”

 

“That's okay. Me either,” Keith admitted. “How'd you tell Hunk?”

 

“I might've just blurted it out mid-panic attack.” Lance looked down at his hands in his lap. 

 

“Okay… well let's try something different then. I think I have a few ideas about what it could be, based on some things Allura mentioned before you got here. So I'm already kind of expecting the worst. Whatever it is though, doesn't change how much I missed you this weekend, and it doesn't change how glad I am that you're home and in my arms right now.”

 

“Sap,” Lance accused, a sad sort of laugh escaping him. 

 

“Guilty,” Keith admitted. He pecked Lance's cheek. “My point is that two of the three things you're scared of, we can rule out. Now you only have one thing to contend with.”

 

“Yeah, the scariest thing…”

 

“Hey watch it, that's my boyfriend you're talking about.”

 

Lance looked at Keith over his shoulder, teary eyed, with a sad smile. 

 

“It happened a long time ago… Nico was thirteen I think? I was eight. Nico's family stayed with us during his parents’ divorce.” Lance turned back around to stare at his dresser as his stomach churned. “Nico was a bully, but I wanted his approval because I wanted to play with him and Marco. Veronica told me it wasn't worth it, but I wouldn't listen to her. I have wished every day since then that I had.”

 

Keith played absently with Lance's jacket strings as he listened. When Lance paused, he smoothed one hand over the back of Lance's where he'd begun to press at his own hip.

 

“He told me I could play with him if he picked the game and I promised not to tell anybody about it. I agreed because I'm an idiot.”

 

“You agreed because you were a kid and you wanted to be friends with your cousin. You aren't an idiot, babe.” Keith corrected. 

 

“He wanted to play doctor. I think you can guess how that went.” Lance bit his lip as tears returned to his eyes. “It happened more than once. I didn't know exactly what was happening, but I knew it was something I shouldn't have been doing. I put the pieces together in middle school, as the guys around me started to become obsessed with sex and whatnot. We'd already moved up here and I hadn't seen him in four years. I started having nightmares. But the only person who ever noticed was Veronica. To this day she still thinks I was terrified of aliens. She and Marco had watched that movie where they burst out of your chest, so I told her that's what the dreams were about…”

 

Lance trailed off. Keith fought to swallow his anger. That wasn't what Lance needed right now. 

 

“I'm sorry he hurt you. I believe you, Lance.” Keith squeezed him gently. “You're really strong for carrying that around by yourself for so long. That must've been really tiring.” 

 

“It's been pretty exhausting lately. Particularly when he cornered me at the mall to warn me not to tell my 'girlfriend’ about it and to remind me that no one would ever believe me anyway.” Lance managed a bitter laugh, followed by a sniffle. 

 

“He did what?” Keith fought to keep his voice even.

 

“Then he texted me throughout the football game. I didn’t look at them until late last night. He was trying to apologize… But also make me feel sorry for him?” Lance wiped his nose on his sleeve. 

 

“Feel sorry for  _ him _ ?” Keith stopped fighting to keep his voice even. 

 

“You’re angry.” Lance turned quickly in Keith’s lap to face him, eyes wide.

 

“I’m…” Keith took a deep breath. “What I’m feeling isn’t important right now. You’ve been fighting back tears this whole time. If you want to cry, you should. Hell, I might cry with you. What he did to you is awful. You don’t owe him anything, Lance. You don’t have to accept his apologies, you don’t have to keep his secrets, and you sure as Hell don’t have to fucking feel sorry for him.”

 

“Keith…” Lance reached up to wipe the angry tear that rolled down Keith’s face as he submitted to the storm raging in his own chest. His whole body shuddered at the effort he'd been putting into not crying. Keith pulled him back into an embrace, pulling them both down onto the pillows behind him. 

 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, holding Lance tight against his chest. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I got you, babe.”

 

They lay like that for fifteen minutes before Lance’s breathing started to even out and the tears stopped. Keith’s phone vibrated in his back pocket. It was Hunk.

 

(18:22)  _ Dinner’s ready. He hasn’t eaten all day, so if you can convince him, that’d be awesome.  _

 

(18:23) I’ll try. 

 

“Lance?”

 

“Hmm?” Lance’s voice cracked pitifully from where his face was buried in the front of Keith’s shirt. 

 

“If I go get some food from downstairs, do you think you could eat it?” Keith asked hesitantly. 

 

“I’ll come down too. I’m sure Hunk and Allura are worried.” Lance peeked up at Keith. 

 

“You sure?”

 

Lance nodded, gently disengaging from Keith's arms to sit up on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes as he did so. Keith sat up as well, eyes still red, and put his arm around Lance's waist while he rested his head on the other man's shoulder. Lance turned to press a soft kiss on Keith's forehead. “Sorry, I got your shirt all wet.”

 

“Don't apologize for that,” Keith responded quietly. “C'mon, you should eat.” 

 

The two slowly got to their feet, Lance taking Keith's hand as they did so, and made their way downstairs. Lance took a seat quietly at the table, letting go of Keith's hand reluctantly so that he could go get food from the kitchen. Unable to mask her concern, Allura made eye contact with Lance from across the table. 

 

“I'm okay. Promise.” Lance mustered a small smile at her. 

 

“Lance, it's okay to not be okay.” 

 

Stunned, Lance nodded at her, begging his chest to loosen and his vision to clear as tears refilled his eyes. He found sitting alone in the wooden chair suddenly unbearable and moved closer to Allura, pulling his new seat as close to hers as he could and leaning heavily into her proffered embrace. 

 

Keith leaned against the counter, arms crossed and eyes unfocused, while Hunk plated up the chicken casserole. He was doing his best to keep his emotions in check but they were so turbulent he could hardly make sense of them, much less control them. It was several moments before he realized Hunk had asked him a question. 

 

“Sorry, what'd you say? I zoned out for a second.”

 

“How's he doing?” Hunk repeated. 

 

Keith glanced over to where Lance and Allura were quietly talking. “Better now that he's not carrying that weight around, I think. Other than that, I'm not sure.”

 

Hunk nodded. “And what about you?”

 

Keith looked back at him, confused. “Me?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I guess… I just wish there was something I could actually  _ do _ …” He couldn't stop thinking about Lance sobbing into the his chest, clinging to him like he was the only scrap of driftwood in a violently churning sea, and it made his heart ache. “One thing's for sure though,” his eyes darkened, “Nico better hope our paths never cross.”

 

Hunk stiffened at the mention of his name. “Tell me about it,” he muttered. “I still can't believe I shook his hand.”

 

“Fucking piece of shit…” Keith mumbled. He bristled at the idea of Lance ever having to talk to his cousin again. Certainly it would happen, right? Lance's family seemed so tight knit. Keith glanced over at Lance and Allura in time to realize Lance was telling her what happened, too. His fists relaxed a bit at Allura's attentiveness, the way she carded her fingers soothingly through Lance's hair and fought back her own tears. He relaxed a bit at the realization that if Lance needed a small team for support, he had it in his roommates as well as his boyfriend. 

 

“I think if Nico realizes that Lance's ‘girlfriend’ is a totally jacked, five foot eight dude who literally keeps a knife in his car, he'd at least be shocked enough for you to get the first punch in.” Hunk handed Keith two plates. 

 

“How'd you know there was a knife in my car?!”

 

“I saw it when you opened the center console to grab your phone charger earlier. Paranoid much?” Hunk raised an eyebrow.

 

“It's an auto rescue multi tool. It has a seatbelt cutter and a window punch… my dad was a firefighter… He'd kill me if I didn't keep one in the car.” 

 

“Gotcha,” Hunk pondered. “I guess a job like that would make you a little paranoid. One of my uncles is a paramedic.”

 

There was a brief lull in conversation as Hunk seemed to search carefully for his next question.

 

“So you plan on staying here tonight?”

 

Keith nodded, preoccupied.

 

“You prepared to deal with more panic attacks?”

 

“It doesn't matter if I'm ready for them or not. I'm gonna be there if they happen.”

 

“You're sure you're up to this? I've known Lance for a long time now and I wasn't even sure exactly what to do. This is pretty heavy shit, and you seem really agitated. I'm pissed too, but I don't think being upset is going to help anyone.”

 

_ Ah. This is Hunk being upset about Nico, but also grilling his best friend's new boyfriend. Sneaky Mama Bear.  _

 

“I'm sure, Hunk. He was there when I needed him. I'm going to be here when he needs me, as long as he wants me.”

 

That answer seemed to satisfy Hunk, at least for now.

 

“So, your dad was a firefighter? Is he retired now?”

 

Keith's stomach dropped and he stumbled over his tongue to answer the question. Thankfully, as he searched for a way to deflect, Lance beckoned him from the dining table. 

 

“Can you go grab the box of Kleenex from the bathroom?” Lance sniffled up at Keith as he set the two plates in front of Lance and Allura. Keith nodded and went down the hall to grab the requested item. He knew that he wasn’t going to be able to keep his secrets for much longer, but tonight was  _ not _ the night for that discussion. Tonight he wanted to focus on what he could do for Lance, he didn’t want everyone feeling sorry for  _ him _ . When he returned he realized the game was up with Hunk at least. The larger man offered an apologetic look from the kitchen as he began cleaning up, a place set for both of them to join Lance and Allura at the table. Keith set the tissues down and stepped back into the kitchen to grab silverware for everyone. 

 

“Sorry, I can tell I touched a nerve,” Hunk began. Keith raised a hand to silence him. 

 

“Later, Hunk. I'm fine on that front. I've got something else to take care of at the moment. I appreciate the concern, really, but I'm not the one who needs it right now.”

 

Hunk nodded and let it go, much to Keith’s relief. He went back to the table and passed out forks before taking the seat Lance had abandoned. 

 

“You wanna watch a Disney movie after dinner?” Keith offered. Lance had straightened up in his chair to eat. He nodded and managed a half-smile at Keith.

 

“I have Pocahontas and Oliver and Company on DVD,” Allura contributed, taking a bite of her dinner. 

 

“You might like Oliver and Company, Keith. It's Oliver Twist, but with stray animals.”

 

Keith smiled. “Sounds oddly cute.” He tried to eat, but could hardly do more than push the food on his plate around. But he did his best to mask his lack of appetite and still participate in the conversation about which Disney movies were next on the must-watch list and distract his brain from the absolute rage that flared any time it drifted to Nicolas and his general existence. After dinner they found themselves squeezed onto the larger of the two couches, Lance snuggled between Keith and Allura with Hunk squished against the couch arm on Allura's other side. They barely made it past the third musical number before Keith noticed Lance struggling to keep his eyes open. 

 

“I think it's time to get you to bed, hun.”

 

“Hmmm?” 

 

Lance cuddled closer to Keith, wrapping his arms around his chest. 

 

“Waking him is like waking up a ferret…” Hunk sighed.

 

“I'm taking it ferrets are heavy sleepers?” Keith clarified.

 

“My sister has one. Sometimes it takes a few full minutes of shaking it to wake it up. It's concerning, to say the least,” Hunk chuckled.

 

“C'mon, Ferret, let's go to bed.”

 

Lance grunted in response, causing Allura to giggle next to him. Keith sighed, but couldn't keep the warm smile off his face as he looked down at Lance curled comfortably against him. 

 

“Alright then, I guess I'll just take a page from Hunk's book.”

 

Keith readjusted Lance's arms so that they wound over his shoulders and around his neck, pulled Lance into his lap, and stood to carry him bridal-style to his room. 

 

“Brat,” Keith scoffed exaggeratedly.

 

“You picked him,” Allura winked, chuckling. 

 

Keith shook his head. 

 

“Believe me when I say I had no choice in this.” Keith hugged Lance tighter to him as he said this, preparing to haul him up the stairs. 

 

“I believe you,” Hunk nodded, his expression soft. “If you need anything, just knock on my door. Uh, thanks Keith, for taking such good care of him.”

 

Keith and Allura stared at Hunk for a moment in bewildered silence before Keith smiled to himself and climbed the stairs. Lance wasn't terribly heavy considering Keith's current squat max was well over 220 with all the lifting he'd been doing; a perk of his recent anxiety. He wrestled Lance out of his jacket and jeans and tucked him into his bed.

 

“Keith?”

 

“Right here, Lance.” He set his glasses on Lance's nightstand. “You need anything?”

 

“Just you,” Lance squeaked, emotion cracking his voice. In response, Keith tossed his own pants away from him and rolled into the bed. Lance clung to him immediately. “Muchas gracias.”

 

“De nada, babe. Get some rest.” Keith kissed Lance's temple, and they both drifted off to sleep.

 

____________________________________________

  
  


Lance didn’t sleep well. It felt like he woke up every couple of hours, unable to breathe and on the verge of another panic attack. Sometimes he would look over at Keith and realize that he was safe in his own bed with his boyfriend, and he’d drift immediately back to sleep. Others he would wake so suddenly that it shook the bed, also waking Keith, who would soothe him until he could lay back down. Once, he had such a bad nightmare that he was inconsolable for twenty minutes, clutching the other man’s chest as he sobbed uncontrollably while Keith spoke softly and smoothed his hair. 

 

Unsurprisingly, by the time Keith’s alarm was getting ready to go off, neither of them had gotten any meaningful amount of sleep. Lance was dozing now, and light was starting to filter through the blinds. Making a decision, Keith cancelled the alarm and shot Matt a text.

 

(7:22) Hey, do you think you could give Pidge a lift to campus today? 

 

_ (7:31) Sure, everything okay? _

 

(7:34) With me, yeah. Lance not so much, he’s in bad shape and I don’t think he’s in any condition to go to class, and I don’t want to leave him alone.

 

_ (7:39) Makes sense. I got Pidge. And if it helps, tell him not to worry too much about the quiz, everything will be fine, just tell him to get feeling better. _

 

(7:42) Will do. Thanks bud

 

With that taken care of, Keith also created a group chat to update Hunk and Allura.

 

(7:44) Keith Kogane: Hey guys, Lance was up a lot throughout the night so I’m gonna see if I can convince him to take a day. I’m gonna stay with him though. I’ll keep you updated, but I’m gonna see if I can get a couple more hours of sleep. Lance is dozing now

 

(7:48) Allura Alfor: That sounds like a good idea to me. Let me know if you need anything! <3

 

(7:50) Hunk Garrett: Same here. There’s leftovers in the fridge :)

 

“What time is it?” Lance mumbled from his pillow next to Keith. 

 

“Doesn't matter. We're staying right here.”

 

“Don't skip class for me, babe. I'm fine, really.”

 

Keith leveled a disbelieving look at Lance that left little room for discussion. While Lance was up, Keith suggested they both email their instructors for the day to get any information they were going to miss. Fortunately, Lance had a great repoire with his professors and their TAs. He had every PowerPoint he'd missed in his inbox before noon rolled around. Not that he noticed. He dozed lightly all morning on Keith's chest, startling awake a few times as deep sleep tried to overcome him. At a quarter to one, they decided they ought to get up and moving. Following a brief tour of Lance's hair and skin care products that ended with Keith deciding to only use the ones he recognized, Keith took the first shower. He flipped the water on as Lance turned to leave. 

 

“You can sit in here to talk if you don't want to be alone,” Keith offered. 

 

“Actually, yeah that sounds good,” Lance nodded. He leaned back against the closed door and slid down it into a seated position against the frame, head coming to rest against his arms folded across his knees. He missed the worried glance Keith cast in his direction as he finished undressing and slipped past the shower curtain. 

 

“So lunch, swing by my place so I can change, and then we can go put some hours on your painting this afternoon?” Keith began, searching for the bottle that said shampoo among the dozen or so products on the shower caddy.

 

“Yeah, that's a good plan… I don't think I want to go to pole tonight.”

 

“You sure? It might make you feel better, babe.” 

 

“I dunno. I don't want everyone to see me like this. They'll worry.” 

 

“I think they might worry if you don't show up, too. You told me pole dancing makes you feel the most in control of your own body of any activity you do. Maybe taking advantage of that outlet while you feel like this will help?” Keith rinsed the shampoo from his hair and began his search for body wash. Lance smelled the soap as Keith opened it. 

 

“You should condition your hair, too. Makes it softer and easy to detangle.” 

 

Keith rolled his eyes, not that Lance could see. “This is why I use a 3-in-1…” he joked as he opened the bottle he'd been directed to. 

 

“Yeah, and  _ this _ is you getting a proper education on self-care,” Lance teased back weakly. After a few moments of silence Lance spoke again. “I don’t remember going to bed last night.”

 

“Yeah, because you didn’t,” Keith chuckled. “I carried you up after you fell asleep on the couch and we couldn’t wake you. Hunk compared you to a ferret when you sleep.”

 

Lance snorted at that. “Rude.” He was quiet again for a minute. “You carried me?” he asked softly.

 

“Well, yeah,” Keith was confused. “I wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch.” When Lance didn’t respond, Keith peeked around the curtain. “Are you okay?”

 

Lance’s chin was on his knees as he stared at the floor. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me this much.”

 

“Everyone needs help sometimes, Lance,” he said as he let the curtain fall and reached for the body wash again. 

 

“Not this much help.”

 

“You sound like me,” Keith chuckled. 

 

“Well I feel like a total nuisance. And I don't want to annoy you. I really like you and pushing you away because I can't handle my own shit would really really suck.”

 

“Okay now you really sound like me.” Keith scowled as he reached for the spare towel Lance had placed on the toilet seat. “Shall I leave the water running?”

 

“Umm… yeah. Thanks.”

 

“Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

 

Lance kept his eyes cast away from Keith as he stepped onto the floor mat, wrapping the towel around his waist. 

 

“No, I think I'll be okay… I'm gonna be quick so we can eat soon. I'm actually sort of hungry.”

 

“Alright. I'll go warm up the leftovers from last night. Just shout if you need something, okay?”

 

“I will,” Lance nodded. Keith helped him to his feet and pecked his cheek as he sidled past to return to Lance's room for the rest of his clothes. He found a comb on Lance's dresser and quickly ran it through his damp hair, and  _ damn it he's right about the conditioner. _ The thought pulled a smile to his lips. 

 

It took him a couple tries to remember which cabinet the plates were in, but soon enough he had the casserole reheating in the microwave. Lance still hadn't come downstairs by the time the first was done, so Keith decided to take that plate so that Lance's food would be hot. The microwave beeped again just as Lance shut the door upstairs and began making his way towards the kitchen. 

 

“Keith?” Lance called hesitantly when he didn't see the other man anywhere. 

 

“Yeah?” The response came from the kitchen, but Lance still couldn't see him, which was weird because it really wasn't that big of an area. As he approached, he saw Keith sitting cross-legged on the counter, nestled in the corner with his back against the cabinets and his plate in his lap. “What?” he demanded around the bite of food in his mouth when Lance burst into giggles at the sight of him. 

 

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” he choked out. 

 

“I'm  _ eating _ !”

 

Lance collapsed against the counter, tears beginning to stream down his face as he fought to breathe through his mirth. “I couldn't even  _ see _ you!” he gasped. “And you're just hunched in the corner… I have _ chairs _ you know…”

 

Keith smirked over his fork, happy to see Lance's smile again. “I like it up here. Your food's ready by the way, if you can stop laughing long enough to eat it.”

 

“Dios mio…” he wheezed as he opened the microwave. “I needed that.” He leaned against the counter nearby to eat, still chuckling. 

 

“So you never told me what you tutor,” Keith mentioned, taking another bite. 

 

“Oh yeah! I'm surprised you remembered that, actually. I work in the Spanish lab twice a week, and every now and again I'll do individual appointments for the advanced students.”

 

“That's pretty cool, do you like it? And why are you surprised?”

 

“It's usually pretty boring unless there's tests coming up. I've been tutoring since I was in high school, since I've known for a while I wanted to be a teacher. It's good experience and it makes recruiters happy.”

 

Keith's head bobbed in agreement. “You didn't answer my other question.”

 

Lance ducked his head as he pushed his food around on his plate, a blush creeping up his neck. “I dunno, I guess I don't expect people to notice stuff like that. It was a single text almost a week ago… _ and _ you were half-delirious from lack of sleep!”

 

“I notice lots of things,” Keith said, smiling. “I remember the first time I saw you after delivering pizza to your house.”

 

“Well, even  _ I _ remember that,” Lance scoffed. “I opened the door to your apartment and you took one look at me and said ‘you're not Pidge.’”

 

It was Keith's turn to duck his head. “Umm, no, actually… I saw you once before that… In the art building…” Lance said nothing, forcing Keith to continue. “You were walking down the hallway with Hunk complaining about relearning the color spectrum and I practically crawled into my locker out of nervousness because I thought you were really cute and didn't know what to do about it…”

 

“You… Whaaa? You crawled  _ into  _ your locker?!” Realization dawned on his features. “I KNEW THAT WAS YOU OH MY GOD I THOUGHT I WAS SEEING THINGS!” Lance couldn’t contain his laughter now as Keith sat blushing on the kitchen counter. “I  _ totally  _ checked you out that day, and you missed it because your  _ face _ was  _ inside _ your locker.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s  _ hilarious _ …” Keith grumbled. 

 

“You’re adorable. I can’t believe  _ I _ made  _ you _ nervous. That’s the weirdest part to me. You are literally the most attractive person I have ever met. How did  _ I _ intimidate  _ you _ ?” Lance moved to stand closer to Keith as they ate, resting an elbow on Keith’s thigh. 

 

“Sounds like you need to get out more,” Keith nudged him playfully. “From where  _ I'm _ standing you come off as this unstoppable force of confident energy. How is someone like me supposed to get the attention of someone like that?”

 

“One: you’re sitting. Two: deliver me pizza, apparently.” Lance winked. “You also like my favorite band, are crazy talented at art, and wear those  _ ridiculously adorable _ knit caps, to name a few things. That you respect my weird boundaries, are understanding of my mental health issues, and can apparently  _ carry me to bed up the longest flight of stairs in any reasonably sized duplex _ are just unbelievably awesome perks.”

 

Keith frowned at him. “Respecting your boundaries and understanding your mental health should be unbelievably awesome _ requirements _ .”

  
“You’d think,” Lance shrugged. 

 

“Yeah, Lance,” Keith he took Lance's face gently between his hands. “Those things are important.”

 

“Good thing you do them, then,” Lance quipped. He set his plate down on the counter and slipped between Keith’s knees placing his hands on either side of Keith’s hips on the counter. “Hi, I’m Lance. I have crippling anxiety, less than functional depression, negative levels of genuine self-esteem, and somehow landed the hottest, sweetest, best boyfriend in the Universe. Did I forget anything?”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, unable to stop the smile unfurling across his features. “You're an idiot,” he muttered.

 

“Ah yes. How could I forget-?” Lance began before Keith cut him off with a kiss. Lance kissed back enthusiastically, eager to seize any moment today not laced in leftover panic or despair. He melted against Keith as they made out, plates forgotten on the countertop. Keith smelled beachy from Lance’s shampoo, but under that Lance could still detect the fragrance of Keith’s skin that was purely him. He allowed himself to be engulfed by it as Keith's hands slid around to tangle in Lance's hair, pulling him in deeper. Lance's arms found their way around Keith's waist to pull him off the countertop and then pin him against it, intoxicated by the way Keith's mouth felt against his. Lance pulled away briefly to smirk at Keith. 

 

“I’m sort of upset that I was dead asleep when you picked me up last night.” 

 

Keith answered by pulling Lance’s hands up to his shoulders and bending slightly to pick up Lance who immediately wrapped his legs around Keith’s hips. Keith tightened his arms around Lance and caught Lance's lips briefly in his own once again. Lance tightened his arms around Keith's neck. 

 

“That’s. Wow. You’re really strong,” Lance laughed. 

 

“You’re not terribly heavy, and I do work out,” Keith explained. 

 

“Clearly,” Lance observed. 

 

“We should table this for later,” Keith sighed, setting Lance down. “You have a painting to finish.” 

 

“Keiiiiith,” Lance whined. 

 

“Now you have some motivation,” Keith winked. He hip-checked Lance as he turned to rinse their plates and put them in the dishwasher. Lance huffed at him as he passed to grab their jackets off the coat rack in the corner of the room. 

 

“Now who's the tease?” 

 

“Still you,” Keith chuckled. “You're the one who started it.”

 

Lance handed Keith his maroon zip hoodie and pulled on his own jacket. “But you  _ paused _ it and that’s the  _ tease _ part!” Lance complained half-heartedly. 

 

Keith smirked as he shrugged into the article. “I'll start it again later, if that's what you want.” He made a show of leaning into Lance's personal space to reach around and grab the phone he'd set down on the back of the couch, brushing Lance's jaw with the ghost of a kiss as he pulled away. 

 

“Is it later yet?”

 

Keith laughed as Lance locked the front door behind them and they made their way to his Mustang parked on the street. “Almost.”

 

They drove the short way to Keith’s apartment and went up to find Pidge hunched over a Starbucks cup at her computer. She looked like she’d slept less than they had. 

 

“Oh, hey!” she greeted them enthusiastically, the caffeine clearly doing its job. 

 

“Hey…” Keith looked apprehensive as he set his phone and keys on the counter. “How much coffee have you had today?”

 

“Probably too much,” she admitted. “But look!” she pointed a shaking finger at the screen in front of her. “It’s doing what I want it to! And it only took fourteen hours!”

 

Keith ran a hand across his face. “Glad to hear it.” As he turned towards his room, his phone began vibrating and the contact “Mom” appeared on the screen. Sighing, he went back to answer it.

 

“Hey Mom, what’s up?” he leaned against the counter. Lance’s eyes went wide when he realized who was calling.

 

_ “Hi, sweetheart!” _ The volume on Keith’s earpiece was loud enough for Lance to hear perfectly. “ _ How’s school going?” _

 

“Things are good, was about to head to the art building.”

 

_ “That sounds about right,” _ Lance heard her chuckle.  _ “Your birthday’s on a Thursday this year, when did you want us to come up and celebrate?” _

 

“Mom, it’s still almost a month away.” 

 

_ “Yes, and if we don’t plan it now, it will never happen.” _

 

Keith smiled. “Fine, how about the weekend after? There’s no game.”

 

_ “Sounds perfect, I’ll mark the calendar. And how have things been going, made any new friends?” _

 

“I’m not twelve, mom,” he said rolling his eyes.

 

_ “How’s Lance?” _

 

Lance froze when he heard his own name and cast a panicked look in Keith’s direction. Keith’s entire face was bright red as he sputtered for a response. “He’s  _ fine _ . Which one of them told you?” he demanded.

 

_ “A little birdie told me…” _

 

“Pidgeon.” he glowered in her general direction. Upon hearing him, she swiveled around, taking a sip of coffee and grinning at him over the rim of the cup. “Any last words for her before she dies?”

 

_ “Tell her she was always my favorite child.” _

 

“What?!” Keith yelped. “You always told me  _ I _ was your favorite!”

 

_ “I lied.” _

 

“Worst birthday planning phone call ever.” Keith was grinning as he made his way to his room to change. As he disappeared, Lance chuckled, still somewhat incredulous at the interaction he just witnessed. 

 

“I think he might actually be serious about the death threats this time, Pidge.”

 

“Nah,” she laughed as she swiveled back to face her monitor. “He’s been putting up with me for a while now. If he were going to kill me, it would’ve happened already. He’s had six years worth of opportunities.”

 

Lance frowned. “I thought you guys had known each other way longer than that?”

 

“Oh, well, yeah, obviously,” she responded distractedly, her eyes scanning code. “But we’ve lived together since high school, so he’s had a lot of chances.”   
  


Lance's stomach dropped. “Wait, what?”

 

“Don’t tell me you thought they’d let Keith live alone when he was barely sixteen? I mean, I guess it wouldn’t be surprising if you did,  _ he _ seemed to think so, and you are dating him now…” she rambled, spinning back to face him. 

 

“ _ What are you talking about? _ ” 

 

When Pidge’s eyes landed back on Lance’s face she realized she’d made a mistake. “Oh, shit.”

 

Just then, Keith’s bedroom door opened and his voice could be heard approaching from the hallway.

 

“-guys are all set to come up that Saturday then?”

 

_ “Yes, we’ll make a reservation for five at seven.” _

 

“Four,” Keith corrected. “Pidge will be dead.”

 

_ “Five,”  _ she repeated.  _ “Lance is invited.” _

 

Keith’s blush returned in earnest. “I’ll think about it.”

 

_ “Okay, I love you.” _

 

“Love you too, Mom. Bye.” Keith hung up the phone and turned to see Lance staring confusedly at him and Pidge determinedly avoiding eye contact. “Pidge, you are literally the worst.”

 

“Yeah…” she mumbled. “I’m gonna have to agree with you on that one…” she trailed off.

 

Keith looked between her sheepish expression and Lance’s bewildered one, realization causing his eyes to go wide. “You didn’t.”

 

She pursed her lips and didn’t answer.

 

“Pidge,” he groaned, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Do you have any idea how  _ terrible _ your timing is?”

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

 

He exhaled, clearly irritated. “It’s fine, I’ll talk to you later. C’mon,” he grabbed Lance’s hand and his keys and made his way outside. 

 

“Keith, what is she talking about?” Lance’s voice was quiet as they got into the car.

 

Keith ran a distracted hand through his hair as he started the engine. It wasn’t until they got out of the apartment complex that he responded. “What did she say?”

 

“That you’ve been living together since high school because ‘they’ wouldn’t let you live alone when you were barely sixteen.”

 

“I’m going to  _ murder _ her…” he muttered darkly.

 

“Keith…”

 

He sighed. “I had planned on telling you at some point, but not when you were in the middle of dealing with your  _ own _ stuff. And definitely not like this. Not that I had any idea how I was gonna bring it up…”

 

“Will you just  _ tell me _ …?”

 

“I lost my dad.”

 

Lance stared at him dumbfounded.

 

Keith kept his eyes facing forward. “It was towards the end of the summer, before I turned sixteen. Firefighting accident. They told him not to go back into the building…but no one could ever tell him anything…” he smiled sadly, his eyes softening at the memory.

 

Lance covered Keith’s hand with his own where it rested on the gear shift, drawing invisible patterns across the back. “But… what about your mom? Why couldn’t you stay with her?”

 

“ _ My _ mom left when I was seven. Said she couldn’t hack domestic life and wasn’t interested in trying anymore. Haven’t seen her since.”

 

“So…” Lance tried to put all the pieces together, “the person you were talking to on the phone was…?

 

“Pidge’s mom, technically.”

 

Lance was quiet for a moment. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?”

 

“Because…I hate the way people look at me, like I’m a puppy someone kicked,” he mumbled as they turned towards the commuter lot. “I got enough of being the weird orphan emo kid in high school, I didn’t want people to look at me like that anymore… I didn’t want  _ you _ to look at me like that.”

 

“I don’t think that’s who you are.” Lance responded, still holding Keith’s hand. “You’re so much more than ‘the weird orphan emo kid.’ I didn't even know all that until right now, and look at where we are. You'll never be that person to me. You're my cute, talented, counter-sitting, sushi-loving, pineapple-murdering boyfriend. And honestly, your biological mom really missed out on raising an awesome person.”

 

“Ugh, cut it out, you're gonna make me cry.” Keith shoved him lightly with his elbow as he downshifted. 

 

“So Mrs. Holt is okay with us dating?” Lance asked after a while.

 

“More than okay, she wants to meet you, and I'm sure Sam does too. That's Pidge and Matt's dad. They're coming in town for my birthday next month, if you hadn't gathered.” Keith pulled into a parking space. 

 

“I had gathered. I'm glad I have long enough to get you a present. Something tells me you weren't going to mention it.” Lance cast a sly glance at Keith. 

 

“ _ Something _ should mind its own business and stop guessing all of my idiosyncrasies.” Keith turned off the car. “And you don't need to buy me a present.”

 

“MmmyesIdo, but if that helps you sleep at night, then, noted.” Lance cheesed at Keith as he opened his door to exit the car. They rode the campus shuttle in companionable silence, Lance resting his chin comfortably on Keith's shoulder. They retrieved Lance's art supplies from his shared locker with Hunk and made their way to the art room where Lance's painting lay unfinished in his cubby. 

 

“My parents and Veronica are coming up for Family Weekend,” Lance mentioned casually as he set up an easel. “I haven't decided exactly when or how to tell them I'm going to Hell, but you could at least meet them as my 'friend’ that weekend if you're interested. I think they'll actually really like you.”

 

“Until you tell them we're sleeping together, that is,” Keith smirked. 

 

“Right. Then who knows what will happen? They'll probably tie me up and haul me home for Confession and an exorcism. Maybe they'll send me to conversion therapy. If that happens, do I get a pass to make out with my shock therapy buddies?’’ 

 

Lance was kidding, but Keith could sense the underlying nervousness in the way he worried the edge of the tape on his canvas and how he tapped his foot on the crossbar of his stool. 

 

“Lance,” Keith started, getting his attention just long enough to hold eye contact, “they're going to love you no matter what. And if you don't want to tell them right now, you don't have to. It's not going to hurt my feelings. I understand.”

 

He nodded, letting out the breath he'd been holding and gave a small smile. “I'll go get the cart.”

 

It took Lance several minutes to get the cart in the right place and fix the crooked pieces in the area he was working on. It was the last week on this project and the subject matter was looking a little worse for wear, having been continuously moved around, bumped into, and knocked over. While he did this, Keith inspected the work-in-progress set up on the easel and looked over the palette Lance had made. All-in-all, it wasn't half-bad. 

 

“So, uh, what do you think?” Lance asked hesitantly at Keith's shoulder. 

 

“You've got a good understanding of what you're doing. You're just making it harder on yourself than you need to.” Keith smiled encouragingly. “Instead of trying to paint this whole area, cut it down to a small segment. Here,” he switched places with Lance so that Lance was sitting in front of the easel and Keith was behind him. Taking Lance's hands, he brought them up to make a rectangle with his thumbs and forefingers and moved them so Lance could see the area he was attempting to paint through it. A good portion of the subject matter was cut out, leaving him with the red flower and surrounding greenery. “Just paint what you see through there,” he said softly in Lance's ear.

 

“So I have to start over?” Lance whined bringing their hands down, his cheeks tinged with pink at how close Keith's face was.

 

“No,” he chuckled, his breath bringing goosebumps to Lance's neck. “Just paint over it, match color now, and add detail once you've got the general layout.”

 

“Patience isn't a strength of mine,” Lance admitted as he tried to deepen the red on his palette. “Just so you know.” He looked pointedly at Keith whose face was barely three inches from his where Keith had leaned down to match perspectives of the cart. Keith grinned.

 

“Oh I know.” He looked back up at the canvas. “We can finish this in a few hours. After that we can do whatever you want, okay?” 

 

“Ugh, fine…” Lance slouched in his seat. “Thank you for offering to help me with this. I have a really hard time deciding where to start and what to do.”

 

“It's no problem babe. I really like watching other artists work. It gives me new perspectives on my own techniques.” Keith pulled up a stool to sit next to Lance. 

 

“I'm not an artist,” Lance corrected.

 

“You're doing art,” Keith observed, pointing. 

 

“Yeah, but…”

 

“Art isn't really about being good. It's about  _ being _ . That's how music is too, you said as much the other night. And don't even  _ try _ to tell me your dancing isn't art. ”

 

“Are you trying to tell me you want to watch me pole dance?” Lance leaned into Keith, batting his eyes up at him.

 

“Well I already told you that, but honestly I'm game for any chance to see you smile the way you did last Monday. Now stop changing the subject and paint,” Keith winked. 

 

“Fiiiine…”

 

Lance got out his portable speaker to blast music while he worked. Keith got up to wander around the room every once in a while so he wasn't constantly looking over Lance's shoulder, looking at the pieces posted on the walls from other classes or to get more paint from his own stash for Lance to use. After two hours, Lance had an entirely new painting on his canvas that just needed a bit more detail that he could add during their final class period Wednesday. 

 

As they finished packing up and Keith was putting the cart back in the closet, Lance glanced over the works hung on the walls. “Are any of your pieces up here?”

 

“No,” he answered too quickly. 

 

“Uh huh…” Lance watched Keith out of the corner of his eye as he perused the canvases hung for exhibition along the back wall. He paused in front of a grouping of landscapes when Keith became more fidgety. They were all impressive to Lance, but the one that caught his eye was of a sunset over what appeared to be an ocean. He paused and examined it, smiling to himself. “I'm pretty sure I've seen literally this sunset in person.”

 

“How?”

 

“I used to live in Florida, Keith, they happen all the time,” Lance laughed. 

 

“No,  _ how did you know that one was mine _ ?”

 

Lance looked up from his ogling. 

 

“I didn't. You painted this!?”

 

“Uhh…”

 

“Keith this is incredible.”

 

Keith fidgeted with his jacket zipper trying to hide his smile. Lance turned his attention back to the piece which he couldn't help but notice was almost entirely made up of a thousand shades of blue. The ocean practically glittered on the canvas, bits of paint morphing into stray rays of sunlight flickering off the crests of waves. The sun and much of the sky were painted in broad, confident strokes of orange, yellow, and red; a horizon on fire over the dampening, soothing blue. His attention drew distractedly toward the painting's center where reds and blues spiraled and zig-zagged against each other in a pattern that suggested a turbulent and unforgiving riptide which levelled and smoothed as they neared where Lance envisioned the beach would have been just out of frame. 

 

“Must've put them up today,” Keith mumbled. “I only just finished it.”

 

“I love it. What was the inspiration?”

 

“Umm…the color blue?” Keith was determinedly avoiding Lance's gaze. “I started it last Tuesday when I couldn't sleep… I was here a little before five and it was the only color that made me feel better so I just went with it and…” he gestured vaguely at the painting, “that happened.”

 

Lance did his best to keep the knowing grin off his face, still mesmerized by the blend of hues. He wasn't even sure Keith remembered that he knew that blue reminded Keith of him. He definitely wasn't supposed to know that painting different shades of blue was the activity that made Keith feel better last week when he was stressed and sleep deprived; that Keith might have been thinking of Lance when he created such a lovely piece. But he did, and if that wasn't the sweetest thing Keith had said all day, Lance didn't know what was.

 

Keith came up behind him to lazily throw his arms around Lance's neck, pressing a kiss to his ear. “It's already after six, shouldn't you eat something before dance? Or were you gonna stay here and give me compliments until I die from embarrassment?”

 

“I just want to go home and hang out with you. I can afford to miss pole.” Lance capitalized on Keith's proximity by turning, wrapping his arms around his waist, and pulling him closer, finding himself still rather frustrated from their brief exchange in the kitchen a few hours ago. 

 

“You should go. I'll be at your place when you get back. Promise.” 

 

Lance made a whining noise. 

 

“C'mon, let's go find dinner and get back so you can change.” Keith moved to leave Lance's embrace, but Lance didn't let go. “Alright then,” Keith laughed. He spun in Lance's arms and hauled Lance onto his back, piggy-backing him out of the room and down the hallway, their combined laughter now echoing through the empty building. 

 

Keith slowed his pace to descend the stairs, despite Lance's half-hearted wiggling to get down from his back. “Nope!” he said cheerfully, tightening his grip. “You're stuck now.”

 

“Hmm…” Lance mused, his chin on Keith's shoulder while one hand idly wound through the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. “Can't say I'm complaining…” His lips brushed the edge of Keith's jaw, eliciting a pleasurable rumble from the back of the other man's throat.

 

“Hnng… I'm not used to being the responsible one. You better watch it.”

 

“What happens if I don't?” Lance asked mischievously, tugging a little harder at Keith's hair. 

 

Keith immediately dropped Lance's legs, much to Lance's surprise. Before he could regain his balance, Keith had spun him into the wall at the bottom of the stairwell, one hand on his hip and the other cupping his neck as he pressed their lips together in a dizzying, barely restrained kiss. Lance melted against him, trying to pull him in deeper, but Keith resisted, pulling back and nudging Lance's forehead with his own. 

 

“God, you are making this  _ so difficult _ ,” he murmured, eyes still closed. 

 

“You're the one who wants me to go to pole,” Lance pointed out matter-of-factly.

 

“Yes, because it's good for you and makes you feel better. And because Allura will probably worry if you don't.”

 

“But you also don't want me to go to pole.”

 

“No, because you are infuriatingly flirty, and so incredibly attractive, and I wouldn't mind keeping you against this wall for a while longer.” Keith pressed his forehead into the top of Lance's shoulder. “Ugh, you smell good.”

 

“You're right, I think maybe I should go to pole,” Lance chirped in his best effort to drive Keith completely insane. 

 

“You are an evil mastermind.”

 

“I prefer chaotic neutral,” Lance chuckled. “You able to walk, there, buddy?” 

 

“I'll manage. I'm going to remember this later.” Keith pushed off the wall and made space for Lance to lead the way. 

 

“I'm counting on it.”


	13. Taco Bell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gets a bit NSFW at the end, as always let us know if we need to up the rating. :)
> 
> We've been slowly starting to plan out the next few chapters so we'll probably know the final count soon. But don't worry, there's still a good amount of story left to tell. <3

Lance bolted up the stairs to change into pole clothes as they got back to Lance's place, Keith slumping down onto the couch next to Allura with his Taco Bell bag.

 

“Well you look incredibly frustrated,” Allura giggled as Keith ran a hand through his hair. 

 

“Lance is feeling much better,” he chuckled. “I can assure you he is back to his witty, flirty,  _ handsy  _ self.”

 

“Do tell…” Allura smirked, crossing her legs up onto the couch and turning to face him. 

 

“He has initiated several makeouts today, and just now was touching my neck and pulling my hair _while I was driving_ _us back here_ … with full intentions to go to class with you.”

 

Keith blushed as he explained this to her, but knew somehow that she wouldn't judge him. After experiencing certain levels of wine-drunkeness with someone, the friendship becomes impenetrable by judgement and doubt. That's just the rules.

 

“Sounds like you need a way to get him back,” Allura winked. 

 

“Jesus, he learned it from you,” Keith groaned. “What devious master plan did you have in mind, Evil Overlord of the Universe?”

 

“That is Princess Allura to you, peasant. Stay right there.”

 

Allura scurried off to her bedroom and returned with a small black piece of jewelry, which Keith only deduced from the silver clasp that held it together. 

 

“Every human ever to wear a choker in that boy's vicinity has earned at least a second glance and a cheesy pickup line… Put one on  _ you _ and it's game over for Loverboy Lance.” She handed it to him. 

 

“Your evil plan is a choker with a star pendant?”

 

She nodded. 

 

“Trust me. Just put it on before we get home. He'll have you in nothing else by the end of the night.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, but shoved the choker into his pocket all the same. Lance reappeared at the top of the stairs wearing a hoodie and the tightest black spandex shorts Keith had ever seen, and that's how Keith Kogane died. 

 

“Allura, have you seen my sweatpants?” He rushed down the stairs.

 

“Laundry room,” she responded, watching Keith with uncontained amusement. 

 

“You are enjoying this  _ way _ too much,” Keith muttered at Allura once Lance was out of earshot. 

 

“You, sir, are correct.” 

 

“Sadist.”

 

“Accurate,” she giggled. 

 

Keith did his best to distract himself with his Crunchwrap, but the image of Lance in what might as well have been a goddamn Speedo was burned into the insides of his eyelids. And from the triumphant grin on Lance's face as he returned to the living room, Lance was well aware.

 

“Ready?” he asked Allura, grabbing his yoga mat from where it leaned rolled up against the frame of the door to the garage. 

 

“Yep! Bye Keith!” She patted him on the head as she stood. 

 

“Bye, Princess,” he conceded. She snorted.

 

“See you later,” Lance murmured as he leaned over the arm of the couch to kiss Keith on the cheek. 

 

“Yes you will…” Keith assured him. “Have fun at class, babe.”

 

Lance waggled his fingers in a wave at Keith before following Allura out the door. Keith settled into the couch to finish his food when his phone buzzed with a text from Shiro. 

 

_ (19:02) Hey I'm outside.  _

 

He quickly gathered his trash and disposed of it before locking the doorknob on his way out. Hunk said he'd be home sometime soon when Keith had texted him earlier, so he'd be able to get back in before Lance and Allura got home. He hadn't really wanted to explain to Lance that he really  _ really _ needed to punch something, and since Nico wasn't around, he'd settled for Shiro so he could at least wear himself out. He grabbed his gym bag from the backseat of his car and slid into the passenger seat of Shiro's. “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” Shiro smiled. “So what made you finally decide to take up my offer to try jiu-jitsu?”

 

“I need to hit something.”

 

“You always look like you need to hit something.”

 

Keith made a derisive sound. “I can't get into it, but I just need to get this energy out.”

 

Shiro shrugged. “Well, jiu-jitsu is more grappling than punching, but it should be able to help. I'll try not to beat you up too much, just make sure you tap out when you need to.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “I'll be fine, just don't hold back on me.”

 

“You do realize I'm bigger than you, right?”

 

The jiu-jitsu school was only a few minutes away, and since Shiro was a member he already reserved a sparring room for them. Keith had changed into sweatpants and a loose fitting tank top and joined Shiro on the mats. 

 

“You sure you wanna do this?” Shiro grinned at him from the center.

 

“I’m sure.”

 

“Do you remember the basics I went over with-”

 

“ _ Yes _ .”

 

“Alright, alright,” he held his hands up in surrender before getting in a stance. “Come at me then. And remember to tap out!”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith mumbled. He took a few tentative steps towards Shiro before going in for the grapple at Shiro’s waist. Shiro easily deflected his momentum, got under his arms and tossed him onto his back before letting all of his weight settle in his hips, hooking his knees under Keith’s, and throwing his elbow around Keith’s neck. Keith struggled futilely against Shiro’s weight, his face reddening from his inability to draw air. 

 

“Keith, if you’re not going to tap out when you need to, I’m not doing this.” Shiro’s voice was calm as he watched Keith flounder before giving up and tapping the mat. 

 

“Sorry,” Keith wheezed as he caught his breath. “I'm not really a quitter.”

 

Shiro chuckled. “Good. You'll never learn if you quit because you lose. But you're going to lose a lot. You barely have any technique, you’re not gonna be able to grapple me through sheer fury, and even if you managed to, I’d be able to throw you off.”

 

He threw his hands up. “Fine, show me techniques.”

 

They spent ten minutes going over enough basics that Keith wouldn’t get pinned immediately and would be able to put up a bit more of an offense. When Shiro tried to grapple him during their next spar, Keith was able to get out from under him before his weight settled, knocking him to the side and attempting to pin him instead. He managed to get Shiro’s knees locked around his own before he was dislodged and Shiro flipped Keith up and over his shoulders so Keith landed flat on his back, knocking the wind out of him. But before Shiro could capitalize on Keith’s incapacity, Keith rolled to one side and launched himself towards Shiro, tackling him, and giving up any pretense of sparring fairly. He took the other man by surprise, managing to get the full weight of his body over Shiro’s hips, which was somehow completely manageable from Shiro's position with his back on the mat. In a move too fast for Keith to really even see, Shiro swung them both sideways and pinned Keith in an arm bar. The smaller man tapped reluctantly on Shiro's thigh as the pressure at his elbow became too much. 

 

“What even just happened?” Keith was breathing hard. “I definitely thought I had you.”

 

“I noticed,” Shiro chuckled, helping him up. “You were using your weight pretty effectively, but I'm still able to throw you if you can't get me in a choke or a joint lock. If I were a smaller opponent, you might have been able to overpower me like that. Even so, a smaller opponent trained in jiu jitsu might've still been able to wrist or elbow lock you out. You take a bit too long to decide what offensive to take, which opens you up.”

 

“Noted.” Keith rubbed the inside of his elbow. “Okay, let’s go again.”

 

They began circling again, this time Keith was waiting for Shiro to make the first move. When they made contact, Keith did his best to simply keep his body moving so that Shiro couldn’t pin him down. It worked for a minute, he continued twisting around and under Shiro’s limbs as they struggled to find purchase, but his constant, inexperienced movement robbed him of his balance. When Shiro knocked his foot from under him he went crashing to the mat and was effectively pinned in seconds. They continued like this for a little longer with Shiro giving encouragement and feedback on how to avoid certain pitfalls, but Keith was quickly wearing down, and each match was shorter than the last.

 

“We should probably call it there, it’s ten til eight,” Shiro observed, barely winded. “You said you needed to get back before then, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Keith panted from the ground, eyes closed as he attempted to catch his breath.

 

“Can I ask why you don’t want Lance to know?”

 

Keith’s eyes snapped open. “Who said I didn’t?”

 

Shiro spared him a weary glance. He sighed in defeat.

 

“Lance is dealing with some stuff right now, and I don’t want him to think it’s making me upset. I mean, it is, but I still want him to talk to me about it when he wants to…” Keith sat up, wincing slightly, “and I’m worried that if he knew how angry I am at the situation he’s in, he’d try to spare my feelings.”

 

The other man nodded, reaching out a hand to help Keith to his feet. “That makes sense. I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself too. And anytime you wanna do this, let me know. I feel like once you master the basic techniques you’d be one hell of a sparring partner.”

 

Keith grinned at him. “Alright, you’re on.”

 

They changed and drove the short way back to Lance’s place, making plans to meet up at least once a week. Keith bounded up to the door at 8:01pm, and Hunk let him in as planned.

 

“How’d it go?” he asked, resuming his place on the couch with his schoolbook while the TV played in the background.

 

“Got my ass handed to the floor a lot,” Keith chuckled, sinking into the cushions as well. “But I feel better. Thanks for covering for me.”

 

Hunk waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. And Lance is doing better I take it?”

 

“‘Better’ might be a bit of an understatement,” Keith said, rolling his eyes. “Which reminds me…” He fished the choker Allura had given him out of his pocket. After ascertaining which way it faced, he clasped it on and then pretended to be fascinated by the cooking program that was playing while Hunk grinned knowingly at him.

 

“That's not even fair,” Hunk chuckled. 

 

“So I've been told,” Keith admitted, smirking to himself. 

 

“I have no doubt that he deserves it.”

 

“Oh he does,” Keith laughed. 

 

  1. A few minutes later, Lance and Allura entered the duplex noisily, chattering excitedly about a move Lance had nailed in class.



 

“It is ridiculous to me that you got your ayesha on your  _ first try _ …” Allura complained.

 

“What can I say, I'm a natural,” Lance radiated happiness, clearly pleased with his accomplishments. “And what are you even complaining about, you got your  _ no-handed jade _ .”

 

“Yeah, and I've been working on it for  _ months _ …”

 

“Oh, quit exaggerating…” Lance chuckled, turning his attention towards the couch and immediately stopping in his tracks. 

 

“Oh hey,” Keith smirked, nonchalantly lounging over the arm of the sofa, one hand toying with the charm around his neck. “How was class?”

 

If there had been crickets in the room, they would've been audible for the few seconds it took Lance's brain to reboot after being manually shut down by the sight before him. Allura giggled as he shook his head. 

 

“Class was great. I'm gonna just rinse off in the shower before bed if you wanna, uh, meet me up there… Um… G'night Hunk! Allura…” Lance eyed her suspiciously as he reached for the staircase. The three of them couldn't contain their laughter once the shower started upstairs. 

 

“I owe you,” Keith chuckled. “That was perfect.” 

 

“I'm gonna put headphones in, so don't waste this perfect opportunity I've gifted you, apprentice.” She winked as she passed him on the way to her room.

 

“Just keep it quieter than the television and I will have no issues tuning it out,” Hunk scoffed as Keith stood to make his way to Lance's room 

 

Light was shining from under the door that led to the bathroom, but otherwise it was dark, and Keith decided to leave it that way. He shut the door and  lay down, stretching luxuriously across the bed to wait for his delightfully flustered boyfriend, still smiling at Lance's stunned reaction to him in the choker. 

 

Lance entered shortly after, having changed into basketball shorts and skillfully wrapped a towel atop his head. 

 

“How does that even work when your hair is so short?” Keith chuckled. 

 

“Practice,” Lance winked. He closed the door behind him, tossing the towel to the floor, and followed the light from his phone screen to the bed where he crawled up Keith's body to straddle his hips while Keith tried to remember how to breathe. He tapped on his nightstand which activated a kitty-shaped lamp.

 

“Is that Pusheen?”

 

“Uh… Yes. Yes it is.”

 

“Cute, but…” Keith gently grasped the lamp by one ear and turned it around so that they couldn't see its face. “There, that's better.” 

 

Lance buried his face in Keith's shoulder as they both burst into uncontrollable, exhilarating laughter for a few moments. As their giggles subsided, Keith lightly trailed his fingers up Lance's back, drawing a pleased rumble from the back of the other man's throat. 

 

“That's Allura's choker, isn't it? She's pure evil.” As he spoke, Lance turned his face so that he could nuzzle against said piece of jewelry.

 

“Evil, definitely. But also genius.” Keith slid his hands carefully down Lance's spine and interlocked his fingers at the small of Lance's back. 

 

“And that's the dangerous part.” Lance brought a hand up to caress Keith's throat where the pendant of the choker rested gently against his skin, causing his breath to hitch. 

 

“What is it about chokers, if you don't mind me asking?” Keith tried to keep his voice nonchalant, unsure if it was working. 

 

“Huh, I've never really thought about it,” Lance replied, slipping a finger under the fabric right where Keith's pulse was pounding a frenzied staccato rhythm, entirely aware of the effect he was having and clearly enjoying it. “It might have a lot to do with how attractive I find collarbones to be… I also find tight-fitting clothing rather attractive, especially on you. Do you even own a baggy t-shirt?”

 

Keith chuckled. “Actually, probably not.”

 

“Gracias a Dios…” Lance ran his lips along the edge of the choker, prompting Keith to turn his head aside to give him better access. 

 

“I have been wanting to touch you literally all day,” Keith admitted, his voice breathless. 

 

“Yo tambien,” Lance whispered against Keith's skin. “No entiendes cuanto te necesito.”

 

“Curse every reason I ever made up to take French instead of Spanish in high school…”

 

Lance chuckled against Keith's shoulder, finding himself sort of relieved Keith couldn't understand him when he said things like  _ that _ . 

 

“This one's an easy one,” Lance said, sitting up slightly to look down at Keith. “Besame.”

 

“Besame,” Keith repeated, a slightly confused expression on his face. When Lance’s mouth quickly found his, causing the tightness in Keith's chest to rapidly expand as he enthusiastically returned the kiss, he seemed to grasp the meaning of the phrase. “Mmm, I like that one…” He allowed his hands to wander over Lance's hips to trail down his thighs, enjoying the feel of the other man's weight against him. Lance's hands were tangled in his hair, his mouth trailing down his jaw. Teeth grazed against his throat and he couldn't hold back the moan that slipped past his lips. Lance bit harder, grinding downward as he did so, causing Keith to audibly gasp as he dragged his hands back to the other man's swiveling hips to encourage their movement as his back involuntarily arched upwards. 

 

“Hmm…” Lance purred, shifting his weight back slightly so he could inch his fingers under the hem of Keith's shirt, and also taking the opportunity to antagonize Keith further, “as much as I enjoy the way this fits you, maybe we should get rid of it…”

 

Keith groaned and tightened his grip on Lance's hips, clearly loath to release them, but also desperate to feel Lance's skin against his own. Lance watched his internal struggle with a playful smile on his face as he traced the line of Keith's hip with his thumb as his lips found their way to Keith's ear. 

 

“Decisions, decisions…” he breathed, nipping gently at Keith's lobe. At that, Keith growled and pulled Lance to the side, rolling them so that he pinned Lance bodily to the bed. Lance chuckled underneath him. “Such an impatient boyfriend I have.”

 

“You forget how patient I have been all day,” Keith breathed against Lance's cheek. He rolled his own hips down onto Lance, causing them both to gasp, Lance's hands scrabbling for purchase on Keith's shoulders. “You're so fucking cute when you're like this. It's not even fair.”

 

“Like what?” Lance dared to ask  as he tugged again at Keith's shirt to remind him that he was still wearing it and it was  _ in the way, dammit. _ Keith grabbed Lance's wrists gently and pressed them into the mattress next to his head, grinning at the look this earned him. 

 

“Flirty. Confident. Aroused.” Each word was punctuated with a kiss, on Lance's lips, his neck, his collarbone. “I love it. Drives me crazy. Even in the small amount of time I wasn't with you today, you are all I could think about.” Keith trailed his lips down Lance's chest as far as he could reach without letting go of his arms before kissing his way over to one nipple. When he breathed hotly over it instead of pressing his lips to it, Lance whined audibly from above him. “Do you want to stick to how we normally do this? Or do you want to try something different?”

 

“D-different could be fun,” Lance panted below him, already trying to find more friction where his hips were still pressed between Keith's and the bed. “Did you have something in mind? I, uh, don't know much more than what we've done.”

 

Keith's blush was almost impossible to see in the low light from the lamp.

 

“This isn't exactly how I wanted to approach this conversation, but have you thought much about other sexual things we could do together?” 

 

“Um duh,” Lance laughed. 

 

“Do any of those things interest you?”

 

“If you want to know if I'd be into bottoming, I have no idea because I've never tried it,” Lance snorted, cutting to the chase. “But honestly, I trust you and would probably try anything you want at least once.”

 

“You're surprisingly relaxed about this,” Keith chuckled, relieved. 

 

Lance shrugged. “I know you're not gonna hurt me. I'm nervous, sure, but like I said, I trust you.”

 

“Okay. I had sort of wanted to finger you if you're up for it.”

 

Lance nodded, but blushed all the same.

 

“Do you have lube?”

 

“Would you judge me if I bought some on the way home with Allura like an hour ago?” 

 

“Of course I wouldn't.” Keith kissed Lance lightly before sitting up, releasing his hands in the process. “Is that the real reason you ran up the stairs as soon as you got home?”

 

“No comment.”

 

“Ugh how is it that you are so adorable?”

 

“You're making fun of meee,” Lance pouted, hiding his face behind his hands. Keith pulled one away and brought it to his lips. 

 

“Wouldn't dream of it. Where'd you put the lube, babe?”

 

“That's a weird question, right?” Lance chuckled, peeking up at Keith through his fingers. 

 

“The first time you hear it, yes,” Keith laughed. Lance seemed to relax at Keith's candid responses. He pointed at the nightstand that Keith now realized had a small drawer on the front. 

 

“Does it hurt?” Lance asked while Keith grabbed the small bottle from the back corner of the drawer. 

 

“If it does you need to tell me. A little discomfort at first is normal. It only hurts if you do it wrong. I'd like to think I'm pretty good at it, but everyone is different and likes different things. That being said, if you don't like it at all, you just say so and we'll stop, okay? You're not gonna hurt my feelings.”

 

“Okay,” Lance nodded, casting a nervous smile up at Keith. “Now about your shirt…”

 

Keith rolled his eyes obligingly, quickly removing the article and tossing it to the floor. Tucking the bottle in his hand into his armpit, he then leaned down and kissed Lance slowly, their lips quickly finding the familiar rhythm as their tongues danced. Lance's hands quickly found their places on Keith's chest and shoulders, kneading and lightly scratching in all of Keith's favorite places. He wasn't sure when Lance had pinned down exactly the place on his hip that made his head spin, but in their limited time together Lance had learned Keith's body like he'd had a map. Keith quickly won the battle between their tongues when he trailed one hand up the back of Lance's thigh and slipped it up the leg of his basketball shorts to find that Lance hadn't bothered with underwear after his shower. 

 

“Can I touch you?” Keith murmured against the other man's jaw, his fingers teasing the soft, sensitive places on Lance's hips. 

 

“Please?” Lance whimpered. 

 

Keith wrapped his hand around Lance, causing the latter to press his hand over his mouth to stifle his moan into a pleased grunt into his palm. While he gently stroked Lance's erection, his mouth began kissing its way down Lance's neck and chest, lingering here and there when a sigh escaped the other man's throat.

 

“One of these days we'll do this when no roommates are home so I can hear all those pretty sounds you make,” Keith smirked against Lance's abdomen. Lance whined and bucked his hips up into Keith's hand. “Let's get these shorts off, yeah?”

 

Lance was lifting his hips for Keith before he'd finished the question. As he helped Lance's shorts off his legs, Keith pressed a kiss to the inside of Lance's thigh, causing another frustrated noise to escape the writhing man beneath him. 

 

“You need to stay kind of still for this so I don't hurt you, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?” 

 

Lance nodded furiously, not daring to remove the hand clasped over his mouth. 

 

“Good boy.”

 

Keith most definitely took note of the way Lance's muscles tensed and the way he bit back another moan at that. Keith grabbed the now warm lubricant and coated his fingers in it. 

 

The first few touches of Keith's fingers were almost too light for Lance to even notice, especially since Keith's other hand, accompanied now by his tongue, had returned to slowly stroking him. Keith added pressure gradually, massaging Lance carefully to desensitize him to the general sensation. 

 

“You still okay, babe?”

 

Lance nodded.

 

“Can you relax for me, beautiful?”

 

Lance twitched in Keith's hand.

 

“Fuck, not when you say things like that! ¿Estas tratando de matarme?”

 

“You like when I call you beautiful?” Keith's tone was genuinely inquisitive. He wanted to learn Lance's preferences like he wanted to wake up breathing tomorrow. 

 

“A lot. And pretty. And good. And yeah, I'm not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

 

“Noted,” Keith grinned. While his hands resumed their tasks, his tongue began swirling light circles around one particular spot on Lance's hip that Keith had noticed a sharp intake of breath as he'd massaged it earlier. Lance’s free hand found its way into Keith's hair, fingers twisting as he tried and only partially succeeded in stifling the moan fighting to break free from his chest. 

 

“Mmm, you like that, baby?” Lance nodded as his back arched even more drastically. “Tell me what you want, beautiful.” Lance groaned. 

 

“Your mouth… please…”

 

Keith acquiesced, slowly taking Lance while the tip of his finger gently pushed inside of him, ever so slightly, before going back to soft, gentle movements. He kept this steady rhythm, increasing speed and depth as he went, while Lance gasped his name. Knowingly, he curled his finger up in search of what he was positive would mean a swift end for Lance and his adorably valiant attempts to stave off the inevitable. He knew he'd found it when Lance's fist tightened in Keith's hair and his other hand sought out whatever part of Keith was closest, which happened to be the hand Keith had placed on Lance's hip to steady him. Lance sweetly entwined their fingers as Keith brushed a part of him that turned the blood in his veins to lava and the air in his lungs to fire. Unable and unwilling to fight it any longer, Lance bit down on his bottom lip to, honestly, keep from outright screaming as he came apart under Keith's ministrations. 

 

Keith delicately withdrew and got up to wash his hands before laying back down next to his still panting boyfriend. Lance immediately curled up in his embrace, nuzzling into his neck while Keith lightly trailed his fingers down his back, causing Lance's body to shudder reflexively. Keith pressed his smiling lips to Lance's hair, and Lance craned his neck upwards to tenderly bring their lips together instead.

 

“That was…” Lance sighed, “Fuck… how did you do that?”

 

“Practice,” he replied, still smiling as he carded his fingers through Lance's completely disheveled hair. “And like I said before, you make it pretty easy.”

 

Lance buried his face in Keith's chest to hide his blush. “Have you been with a lot of people then?”

 

“Well, you  _ have _ been made aware of Pidge's loving nickname for me,” he joked, earning a giggle from Lance. He thought about it for a moment. “I think, counting you, maybe eight?” Lance didn't say anything. “Does that bother you?”

 

“No…but…” he buried his face deeper. 

 

Keith pulled back to get a better look at him. “What's wrong?”

 

“I mean…I barely know what I'm doing…isn't this, I dunno, boring for you?”

 

Keith took Lance's face in both of his hands, gently bringing their gazes level, desperately wracking his brain for anything he could say to banish all of this beautiful man's insecurities and worried he was going to come up short. “Hey. You do not bore me. You make me happy and I want to be around you all the time. There's nowhere I'd rather be than right here, lying in bed cuddling with you.” He looked into Lance's eyes searchingly. “Okay?”

 

A sleepy half-smile found its way to Lance's face.

 

“Okay.”

 

Keith pulled Lance into his chest, burying his nose in slightly damp, coconut and mint-smelling hair. As he did, he felt Lance's hand slide down his torso toward his waistband. 

 

“Do you only own black skinny jeans?” Lance chuckled as he quickly undid the button on the front. 

 

“I also own black sweatpants,” Keith supplied, deadpan. At Lance's exasperation, Keith smiled. “I have some dark wash jeans as well.”

 

“Dark clothes, bitey, night owl…” Lance scoffed as he remembered what Nico had said at the mall, but instantly shoved his cousin from his mind, surprisingly successfully. “Are you a vampire?”

 

“Did Shiro put you up to that?!” Keith grumbled, light-heartedly.

 

“What? No? Wait, did Shiro call you a vampire?” Lance was shaking the bed in stifled laughter. 

 

“Ha ha,” Keith rolled his eyes, unable to keep the small smile off his face. “If I were a vampire, you'd already be eaten. Mmph.” Keith's eyes fluttered closed as Lance's fingers lightly brushed the hollow of his hip that was now exposed. 

 

“Hmm, you have also threatened to eat me, if memory serves.”

 

“As  _ I _ recall,” Keith panted, adjusting so that he could kiss Lance's neck, “I  _ offered _ to eat you. Still stands, by the way,” he murmured against the other man's skin. 

 

“Tempting,” Lance's hand slid along the edge of Keith's jeans, trailing lines of fire where his fingers met skin. “But I think it's my turn,” he whispered in Keith's ear as his he dragged his nails lightly up the other man's back. Keith inhaled sharply, his body arching into Lance, a movement encouraged by Lance's arm that wrapped around his waist as he nuzzled into Keith's neck. 

 

“This choker really does look good on you,” he commented as he pressed a kiss to the hollow of Keith's jaw. “You should wear them more often.”

 

“You think so?” Keith asked breathlessly as Lance's mouth continued to tease his throat with soft kisses and gentle nips. “Noted,” he managed through clenched teeth as Lance's fingers began gently caressing the skin at his waist, every now and again applying gentle pressure with his nails. Keith couldn't decide whether he wanted Lance to get him off or never stop moving his hand like that ever. When Lance pulled Keith's hip so that Lance's own pressed against him, the ache that had been building in the pit of his stomach throughout the day felt like it would consume him. 

 

“You have to tell me what you want,” Lance's voice purred in his ear.

 

“I just want you to touch me,” Keith managed before pulling Lance into a rough kiss while the other man's hand went obligingly between his legs. Keith gasped at the contact and Lance's hand was quickly joined by his mouth as he kissed his way down Keith's chest. Keith tried to stifle the noises fighting to break free from his body only somewhat successfully, but he couldn't bring himself to care, because every brush of Lance's body against his was electricity. His lungs burned for the oxygen they weren't getting and all Keith could focus on was him and the way he unmade Keith so beautifully.

 

After Lance cleaned up, he helped Keith shimmy the rest of the way out of his pants and lay back down next to his completely spent boyfriend. Keith immediately snuggled up next to him, their bodies quickly settling into the familiar curves of each other. Lance kissed Keith's temple. 

 

“G'night, babe.”

 

“Mmm,” Keith sighed happily. “G'night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: can confirm the choker works irl ;)


	14. Fried Oreos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii friendssss.
> 
> We're very very sorry we didn't post last week. Both R3d and I have had a lot of personal shit come up over the last month, and we unfortunately fell behind with writing. This chapter isn't as fully flushed out as I'd like it to be, but I wanted to get it up before the end of the day, and I'm just too tired to write any more.
> 
> With the holidays coming up, and us only *now* beginning to crawl out of the pit life pushed us into, we regret that we cannot reliably guarantee weekly chapters until after the new year. We will definitely be writing over the holidays, and we'll post when we can, but this fic has to take a backseat for a little bit. We're very sorry about that, and we hope you guys will continue to be as supportive as you have been since the start. We're so happy at the response this fic has gotten, and we hope you'll stick with us through this rough patch. <3
> 
> For now, please enjoy this tooth-rotting festival fluff!
> 
>  
> 
> Much love,  
> R3d and Dunu

They all fell easily into a routine. It would have been off-putting to Keith if he'd given it any honest thought; how his unannounced presence at Lance's duplex went unquestioned by his boyfriend's roommates, how Lance and Pidge coordinated study sessions and rides to and from campus around Keith's work schedule, how Shiro asked casually about Lance and Allura between pizza runs. He would've been skeptical of how  _ natural _ it all felt. But he didn't think about it. As the week wore on and his anxiety over Lance's well-being faded, Keith found his brain capable only of thoughts of the azure-eyed boy who chewed on his pencil at difficult writing prompts and stuck his tongue out when he  _ really  _ focused on something and bit his bottom lip when he flirted and…  _ oh my God stop thinking about his mouth. _ He squeezed his eyes closed and forced his face under the water streaming over him in the shower in Hunk and Lance's shared bathroom. Reaching distractedly to his left, his fingers found the bottle of conditioner among the still confusing myriad of hygiene products. 

 

The familiar sound of bottles crashing to the shower floor and a slew of hissed curses slipped under the bathroom door right as Hunk was leaving his room. 

 

“You better not be doing what I sincerely hope you are not doing!” He shouted. 

 

“I already promised you we wouldn't do stuff in the shower, Hunk! Why don't you believe me?” Lance appeared in his own doorway to shout at the bathroom door. “You alright, babe?”

 

“Why do you have  _ so many _ goddamn bottles?!” came the response as another light thud echoed from the far side of the bathroom. “Uuughhh…”

 

Hunk chuckled. “Welcome to my  _ life _ ! I knock them over literally every other day!” He turned back to his roommate who hid his mischievous smile behind one hand. “And I don't believe you because I've seen the way you practically  _ jump _ each other when he comes through the front door.”

 

Lance blushed at that, scratching the back of his head. 

 

“You guys want breakfast?” Hunk offered as he turned toward the stairs. 

 

“Actually we're gonna grab something small on the way. I've been doubly warned by the Holts that we will be surrounded by food all day and should pace ourselves accordingly.”

 

“Oh right, Pumpkin Fest. That'll be fun!” 

 

The thrumming of water against the shower curtain cut off. After a few moments, Keith opened the bathroom door in a pair of Lance's athletic shorts, scrubbing his hair roughly with the towel he'd been assigned for the week. 

 

“Do you want us to bring anything back for you, Hunk?” Keith asked.

 

“Pie is always appreciated in this house,” Hunk smiled. Keith nodded and sidled back into Lance's room to find the overnight bag he'd packed. He dressed quickly in jeans, a black long-sleeve knit shirt, and the red turtleneck hoodie Pidge got him for Christmas last year. Lance returned shortly from his own shower.

 

“That hoodie looks so comfy,” he commented, digging through a dresser drawer for clean underwear. 

 

“Pidge has excellent taste in couch potato chic,” Keith chuckled. “I'll ask her where she got it.”

 

Pulling a baseball tee over his head, Lance fumbled around in a second drawer for a pair of pants. He noticed Keith searching the bed for something on all fours as he stepped into his favorite jeans.

 

“Something lost?”

 

Keith sat back on his heels and cast a flirtatious smirk up at Lance. “Any idea where my gloves went last night?”

 

Lance sputtered, warmth flushing his face. “I, uh, didn't pay much attention to where they went after you took them off. Check by the nightstand?”

 

_ Damn Keith and those fingerless leather gloves.  _ They'd only just discovered it, but Lance  _ really _ seemed to like the feeling of Keith's gloved hands on his skin. In true Keith fashion, the more experienced man had been quick to test this out over the last two days. 

 

Keith found them there where they must've been knocked off the small table and leaned down to retrieve them. He would've been remiss not to take the chance to watch Lance's face as he pulled them onto his hands. 

 

“Not fair,” Lance whined.

 

“I mean, I could also wear the choker,” Keith challenged. He crawled back to the other edge of the bed to sit and raised an eyebrow at his now flustered Lance.

 

“You're  _ awful _ .”

 

“You like it.”

 

Unable to argue, Lance took Keith's face in his hands and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead.

 

“I really do.” 

 

The words had been burning in the back of Lance's mind since Monday morning. This boy had put everything aside when Lance needed him, believed his trauma, and then essentially stayed up all night absorbing aftershocks from his Hellish interactions with Nico. Lance hadn't ever been  _ held  _ like that during a panic attack - like he was glass: fragile and important. Keith had spoken softly to him, dictated his breathing, and convinced him to lay back down without so much as even minor irritation at being woken for the umpteenth time. Keith had retrieved tissues and glasses of water, had swiped tears from his face, had protected him from his demons in the night. Keith had been there in a way that no one else had ever been for him. And now, with Keith's eyes turned mischievously in his direction, as they frequently did, and Keith's face in his hands, the emotion he didn't want to name swelled in his chest, and for a fleeting moment, he thought,  _ what's the worst that could happen if I just said it _ ? His musings were interrupted by memories of his fallout with Claire and the pain of having feelings validated and then peeled away to expose the deepest of wounds from the pieces of the soul that go into forming the words now fluttering behind his lips. 

 

Keith couldn't help but giggle at how Lance had reacted so tenderly to his flirting, but that was one of his favorite things about Lance, to be honest. He was a giant teddy bear. He wore his heart on his sleeve and his happiness in his eyes and  _ God _ did that look good on him. At this proximity he definitely noticed the sad smile that crossed Lance's face for less than a millisecond. 

 

“You okay, babe?” Keith tilted his head with the question.

 

“Nunca he estado mejor,” Lance nodded, smiling brightly and caressing Keith's face. “You ready to go?” 

 

Keith nodded and they made their way downstairs and toward the door, Keith forcing Lance’s bomber jacket into his arms as they passed it on the couch. 

 

“It’s not even that cold outside,” Lance protested. 

 

“In town where the buildings break up the wind, it isn’t,” Keith argued. “We’re about to go walk around a pop-up festival in a town with barely a hundred residents surrounded by farmland.”

 

“Fiiiine…”

 

“You’ll thank me later.” Keith ruffled Lance’s hair as he led the way out the front door. They made a quick stop for coffee and bagels before driving the twenty minutes out of town to get to the festival. As Lance's tires crunched on the gravel road Keith was reminded just how long it had been since he’d visited home. Much to Keith’s amusement, Lance was a little taken aback by the giant “Parking” sign that directed him literally out into the middle of a field full of cars. 

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever driven on grass,” he laughed, pulling into what he assumed was a parking spot. 

 

“Remind me to take you four-wheeling at some point. We’ve got a few trails that wind through the Holt property that are relatively gentle. You’ll like it.” 

 

“Isn’t four-wheeling super muddy and dangerous?”

 

“Only if you do it right,” Keith laughed. “C’mon. Let’s go have one of these famous deep-fried Oreos.”

 

Lance resisted a shiver as he stepped out of his car. He’d yet to put his jacket on and didn’t want to admit that Keith had been right just yet, so he tied it around his waist and caught up to Keith who had slowly started to cross the field toward the center of town, if that’s what one could even call the quaint little group of buildings they approached. The streets were buzzing with people. Tents lined the roads in front of what appeared to be private residences. Lance discreetly linked arms with Keith as the crowd thickened so as not to lose him among the throng of people. They perused the craft booths as they made their way deeper into town. As they passed under a bright yellow festival banner, Lance heard the call of his and Keith’s names ring out above the din of the crowd. Pidge waved frantically from her place at the head of a table in front of a little tin cash box, a pad of lined paper and a utensil station to her right. 

 

“Hey guys!” Pidge chirped as they approached the table. “Funnel cake? Fried Oreo? We even have a jar of pumpkin spice to sprinkle on them if you’re feeling so inclined.” She pushed her glasses up on her nose, smiling at them. Lance pulled a dollar from his wallet. 

 

“Two Oreos for now,” Lance requested. “I still can’t believe Keith’s never had one.” 

 

“That’s because he’s a shut-in,” Matt shouted over his shoulder, earning a discreet middle finger from Keith. He and a few other senior members of the fraternity manned the organization’s double basin deep-fryer: one in charge of dipping Oreos into pancake batter, another mixing batter with a power drill retrofitted with a beater from an old stand mixer, one fishing finished Oreos out of the oil with a fryer basket, and Matt himself pouring batter into a circular mold in a spiraling pattern from a plastic watering can. 

 

“My shift is over at two if you’re still here by then. If you want to watch how we run the stand you’re welcome to hang out, Lance. But I suspect you have some other things you want to do.” Pidge smiled conspiratorially at them. 

 

“I know I do,” Keith winked with a gentle prod of his elbow into Lance’s ribs where their arms were still interlocked. 

 

“Grossss…” came the anticipated heckle from Matt. 

 

“I’m starting to think you do that to him on purpose,” Lance giggled under his breath. 

  
“Who, me?”

 

As Keith gasped in mock offense, one of the students working the fryer turned to hand Lance a paper plate with two golden brown pucks of fried dough dusted generously with powdered sugar. 

 

“Thanks BeeBowie! See you later, Pidge! Matt!” And with that, Lance tugged Keith lightly into the crowd in search of a seat at a picnic table nearby. 

 

“BeeBowie?”

 

“His name’s Colby Bowie. One of the guys in my prospective member class said it really fast at rehearsal one day and BeeBowie sort of just stuck.” 

 

“Dub-Smythe, BeeBowie… You band kids and your silly nicknames…” Keith laughed as Lance picked a vacant picnic table. As Keith shook his head at Lance, he noticed an older man gawking at them from a few tables over. It took him a moment to realize that it was because of how they were leaning into each other as they walked; how their linked arms and easy smiles at one another had outed them. Remembering where they were and the likely crowd who lived here, especially as he realized they had chosen a table directly in front of probably the only church in town, Keith had half a mind to drop Lance’s arm. Keith had been in this situation with every person he’d ever so much as flirted with in public. When he and Eric had started openly dating, the Fellowship of Christian Athletes club members at their school revoked Eric’s membership. Keith didn’t have many friends in high school other than Pidge, Matt, and Eric, but suddenly  _ everyone _ was talking about him. People pointed in the halls, they mocked him online, parents called his dad to scream about him… And then the accident happened, and it all went quiet, and that was almost worse. Since high school, Keith had become unapologetic in his gayness. He didn’t go out much, to be fair, but when he dated guys he treated them like anyone would on a date. In a college town, the atmosphere was better, but there was always someone watching silently to judge from a corner booth, at the other end of the bar, over the produce at the grocery store. He wanted to protect Lance from that, and for a split second, the obvious answer was to extract, put distance between them, and do something hyper-masculine like punch him in the arm. But as quickly as the thought occurred to him, he shot it down. Instead, he smirked openly at the man, making brief eye-contact, before scooting closer to Lance on the bench and pecking him lightly on the cheek in the subtlest of “fuck you’s” he could imagine.

 

“Thanks for the Oreo, babe.”

 

“You haven’t eaten it yet, but you’re welcome,” Lance beamed. “Here!” He handed him a napkin. “They’re really hot, so be careful.”

 

Keith cast a sly glance back to their tiny audience of one to find the man satisfactorily disgusted. As they made eye contact again, Keith winked, careful not to let on to Lance what was happening. Keith felt a swell of pride as the man’s face reddened and he scowled back at them. The man leaned over to a woman sitting next to him at the table and whispered something before they both stood to leave.  _ Good riddance _ . A sense of accomplishment flooded his chest. 

 

“What are you looking at?” Lance asked, trying to trace Keith’s line of sight. 

 

“Nothing important,” he mumbled, turning to face Lance. “Ah. Much better.”

 

“You okay?” Lance chuckled, blushing. 

 

“Hmm… On a date eating cookies with the cutest boy in existence? I’m fantastic.”

 

“Ohmygod stop. Eat your cookie.” 

 

Keith obliged, taking a tentative nibble so as to prevent burning his taste buds off. He didn't know why he was surprised at the lack of crunch from the Oreo, but it was definitely one of the best Fair foods he'd had. “Where has this been all my life?” he demanded, staring at it in his hand and shaking it slightly for emphasis.  

 

Lance grinned. “Right? They're  _ perfect _ .” He took a small bite of his own before continuing. “Apparently they'll fry anything though. Once someone asked them to fry a Big Mac.”

 

Keith wrinkled his nose. “Did they… eat it?”

 

“I think so,” Lance chuckled at the look on Keith's face. “Naturally, this led to some of the senior members to start experimenting, and they fried all sorts of weird stuff.”

 

“Was Matt in this group?”

 

“From what i heard, I think he was the one leading it.”

 

Keith snorted. “Figures.”

 

“So is this anything like your hometown?”

 

Keith schooled his face as he tried to shove the facetious answer from his mind.

 

“Ours is bigger. We have a McDonald's. And our own hospital. The population is like two thousand? I think?”

 

“So it's also tiny. Gotcha.” Lance winked as he took another bite. “Up until college I'd never lived in any place that wasn't a giant city.”

 

“We currently live in the largest city I've ever even seen,” Keith chuckled as Lance guffawed. 

 

“You'll have to come up for my nephew's birthday next month so I can show you what a  _ real _ city looks like,” Lance offered casually.

 

Keith's heart did a somersault in his chest, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the glint in Lance’s eyes when he was flirting, or the fact that they were pressed  _ thisclose _ to each other on the bench and he could smell the warm, slightly spicy cologne Lance was wearing. Or maybe it was that they kept making more and more plans together, which made this whole thing seem so much more real to Keith, like it might keep going on like this. Like  _ they _ might keep going on like this. 

 

“Sorry,” Lance flushed and scratched his head nervously, misinterpreting Keith's silence. “Maybe that's too much…”

 

“No, that's not-” Keith took the hand that was now picking anxiously at the paper plate in both of his own. “You just… caught me off guard. I'd love to go with you.” Keith ducked his head as he felt his own cheeks start to burn. “I was thinking about all the plans we keep making and it just… makes me really happy.”

 

Lance's face lit up. Keith swore that no one could look more like a puppy than a genuinely happy Lance McClain. 

 

“Oh. Yeah. Okay! Great! Me too.” Lance squeezed Keith's hand. 

 

Keith grinned back. “Now will you put on the damn jacket already? Your hand is  _ freezing _ .”

 

Lance rolled his eyes. “It's not  _ that  _ bad…” he tried to protest, but a gust of wind came through and he was unable to repress a shudder as he unconsciously burrowed deeper into Keith's side. As if they could've been sitting any closer. 

 

Keith smirked. “Oh yeah? Okay then, I'm just gonna go throw our plate away…” He moved to get up, but as soon as he disengaged, Lance's arms were tugging him back down to snuggle in close again. 

 

“Okay,  _ fiiine _ , it's cold,” Lance mumbled into his neck. “You were right. Happy?”

 

“Mhm!” Keith pressed a kiss to Lance's forehead as he wrapped his arms around his shivering boyfriend. “You wanna walk around? I feel like there's gotta be  _ someone _ selling hot chocolate here.”

 

“Yes! Hot chocolate sounds amazing!” After shrugging into his bomber jacket, Lance grabbed Keith’s hand and pulled him along the main corridor of the festival in search of a drink stand. Of course, they had to stop at nearly every craft tent on their way so Lance could marvel at every piece of woodworking, handmade jewelry, and home decor being advertised from the rented booths sprawled across the grounds. Keith didn't mind though. He loved watching Lance's excitement as he perused the wares, was happy to follow him around as he flitted from stand to crowded stand. And every time Lance found something he liked, he would call Keith over to look, and Keith couldn't pinpoint precisely what about this made him grin so widely, but he was powerless to stop it. 

 

As they stood aside waiting for their hot chocolate order to be filled, Lance gasped. 

 

“They have a ferris wheel!”

 

Keith followed Lance's line of sight over to the carnival sized wheel where it rotated slowly above the fairgrounds. He didn't have the heart to tell Lance ferris wheels scared the absolute shit out of him, with the heights and the rocking and whatnot. It wasn't like a rollercoaster where they strap you in and the forward momentum keeps you in your seat. He pushed his sudden anxiety from his mind and smiled at Lance.

 

“I take it you like ferris wheels?”

 

“I've always loved them, especially at night when the lights are on. Would you ride it with me?” Keith was quickly learning he was no match for Lance's puppy dog face. 

 

“Of course I'll ride it with you,” he nodded, sounding surprisingly confident despite the slightly Jello state of his knees. “Wait, where're you-” he tried to ask as Lance enthusiastically bounded away towards a nearby ticket stand. He shook his head, smiling at his adorable boyfriend. 

 

A few minutes later, Lance returned waving the tickets high above his head in triumph. “All set!” he chirped happily, taking his hot chocolate from Keith. “Wow, they gave us a lot of marshmallows!”

 

Keith smirked, taking another sip from his own heavily laden cup. “I may have bribed them. I really like marshmallows.”

 

“You're cute,” Lance said, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek and giggling when Keith's face reddened. “Apparently there is a hay ride and a corn maze too! Do either of those things interest you?”

 

“Is it even a small town fall festival without a hay ride and a corn maze?”

 

“Good point.” Lance smiled, pointing at Keith. “We should wait for Pidge and Matt to get done at the fryer and race them through the maze.”

 

“Matt will be so excited,” Keith chuckled. “Also, we'll definitely lose. Those two together are unstoppable.”

 

“Unless they're fighting,” Lance pointed out. 

 

“Truth.”

 

The pair wove casually through the crowd toward the ferris wheel, and try as he might to keep his anxiety subclinical, Lance seemed to notice as they joined the end of the queue. 

 

“You alright?”

 

“Yeah, why?” He tried to keep his voice unaffected, but wasn't sure if it was going to help his case or hurt it. 

 

“You've got a death grip on my hand, babe.”

 

Keith glared down at the offending appendage. 

 

“Sorry, I uh…”

 

“Are you afraid of heights?”

 

“N-no…”

 

“That was so convincing,” Lance giggled. “It'll be okay. I'll be right there with you. Nothing bad will happen, promise.” He offered a smile in consolation. 

 

“You promise not to rock the seat?” Keith mumbled, avoiding Lance's gaze. 

 

“On mi abuelita's tamales, I swear.”

 

“Lance, seriously,” Keith warned.

 

“Honey, it doesn't get much more serious than that,” Lance informed him. “Also I want you to have fun.”

 

Keith let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding and forced his fingers to relax. Lance began chattering about all the food stands they'd walked past so far and what they should try from each one, and Keith was grateful for the distraction. But as they inched closer to the front of the line, he gradually lost the ability to control the frantic rhythm his heart was pounding against his chest.

 

“Hey,” Lance prodded him gently. “We don't have to go, you're not gonna hurt my feelings.”

 

“I  _ want _ to go,” Keith insisted quietly. 

 

“You sure?”

 

Keith nodded as the ride operator took their tickets. They stepped up onto the platform and Lance allowed Keith to sit first before getting into the seat next to him. When the stabilizers released the car, Keith let out the tiniest of squeaks that he would certainly deny making if anyone asked. 

 

“You're alright, I'm right here. They're reloading so it might be a little rough until they've replaced all the riders.”

 

Keith nodded pitifully, eyes squeezed tight as the wheel lifted them higher only to stop and exchange another seat of riders. He had a double white-knuckled grip on the lap bar in front of them; well, Lance was sure his knuckles would've been white if he could see them where they were covered by Keith's gloves. He repositioned his arm behind Keith to comb his fingers through slightly tangled hair. This seemed to release a minute amount of tension before the wheel began moving again. By the time they reached the top, Lance was certain there was only one more car to load. 

 

“Woah. Keith? Babe. Babe, you _ have _ to look at this.” Lance placed a surprisingly warm hand over Keith's as he opened his eyes for the first time since sitting down. From the top of the ferris wheel they could see the entire festival, the jagged pattern through the corn maze several hundred feet away from the fairgrounds proper, and the surrounding hilly countryside practically burning with autumn foliage. 

 

“Wow that's beautiful,” Keith gasped. They only had a few moments before the wheel began turning again, this time passing them fluidly in a circle past the platform and up again. Keith pressed himself against Lance's side, fighting the urge to squeeze his eyes closed against the gentle rocking of their bench that they couldn't completely control as the ride moved. 

 

“I've got you, you're alright babe.” Lance squished Keith into his side in a one-armed hug. 

 

“It's way faster than I was expecting,” Keith chuckled nervously as he tentatively released the lap bar and wrapped his arms around Lance instead. 

 

“It's a small ferris wheel. That's the trade-off with them, I've found. The taller they are the slower they move, likely for a bunch of engineering reasons Hunk would be able to explain. Hunk hates ferris wheels too. Any spinny ride, really. He gets really nauseated.” 

 

“I love the ground spinny rides,” Keith informed him. “It's the dangly spinny rides that are hard for me.” As if for emphasis, Keith closed his eyes as the seat rocked them in the wind.

 

“We can go on one of those next, if you want.” Lance smiled down at Keith, whose chin was resting in the crook of his neck.

 

Keith nuzzled closer as he nodded. “That sounds good.” He gently pressed his lips against the other man's neck, eliciting a surprised intake of breath from Lance who quirked an eyebrow at him, his grin widening.

 

“Feeling better, I take it?”

 

“Hmm, maybe,” Keith smirked up at him. 

 

Lance's free hand brushed the hair out of Keith's face before settling at the nape of his neck to pull him in for what he had intended to be a brief kiss. But something about the way Keith's arms were wrapped around him and the way he trusted Lance to take care of him caused a rush of affection that was multiplied by a hundredfold when their lips met. His fingers quickly became tangled in Keith's hair of their own volition, pulling Keith in deeper, and twisting slightly the way he knew the raven-haired man liked. Keith responded enthusiastically, sighing into the embrace, one hand finding its way to Lance's hip, fingers winding through the belt loop there. 

 

Unfortunately, neither of them noticed that the ferris wheel had begun slowing down, and their steadily escalating moment was cut short by the abrupt halt of the ride, which jostled the entire car.  They immediately broke apart and Keith let out a brief noise of distress before once again burying his face in Lance's neck.

 

“Sorry!” Lance stroked his hair in an attempt to soothe him. “I'm sorry, babe, I wasn't paying attention.”

 

“S'okay,” Keith mumbled into Lance's jacket. “Worth it.” Lance chuckled at that. 

 

“Once we get off, we'll go get tickets for some of the ground spinny rides, yeah?”

 

Keith peeked up at him. “Yes, please.”

 

Once they were back on solid ground, Keith was able to relax again. They went on a ride called “The Vortex”, where passengers are loosely strapped into standing seats in a circle and the ride spins while tilting on its side. Next was “Sha-zam”, which spins passengers in double circles, causing whoever was seated on the outer part of the bench to get smushed between the inside passenger and the side of the car by the momentum (something Keith did absolutely nothing to prevent while Lance half-heartedly whined at him). They even went on “The Dragon”, which was clearly a roller coaster designed for children, and held their arms up the entire time while cheering as it went over the small hills of the track. 

 

They met up with Matt and Pidge at the turkey leg stand after their fry shift was over, and the four continued to peruse the nearby craft booths while munching on their oversized snacks. Matt and Lance insisted on taking the hay ride out to the pumpkin patch, and once there proceeded to search for the largest pumpkin they could find. It took both Pidge and Keith to wrangle them back to sanity and convince them to pick pumpkins they could actually carry. By the time they got back to the main fairground, most of the festival-goers had dispersed and a good portion of the booths were closing up, so they decided to call it a day. On their way back to the car they passed a stand selling homemade pies and Keith, remembering his promise to Hunk, ran over to get a couple. They said goodbye to Matt and Pidge, who had to go help pack up the fryer supplies, and made their way across the significantly more empty car lot.

 

“So,” Keith began as he slid into the passenger seat of Lance’s car. “Did you have fun?”

 

Lance cupped Keith’s cheek with one hand before leaning across the center console to give him a lingering kiss in the dim light of the sunset.

 

“It was perfect.”


	15. Cappuccinos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year lovely readers!!! 
> 
> We are so thrilled to be writing again now that the holidays are behind us. We're hoping to get back on our weekly update schedule, so fingers crossed! 
> 
> CW this chapter is in large part a gratuitous smut scene so sorry if you're not into that (the holidays were super rough okay :P), but don't worry. We'll be getting back into the nitty gritty soon, there's more story yet to come. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for sticking with us <3

Lance was  _beyond_  ready for the weekend by the time Wednesday rolled around. He'd had two papers due and an exam later that day, and as he sank into his normal seat at the cafe for his break during painting to wait for Keith, he was certain he would need some extra motivation to get back out of it. With a light click from the cardboard cup, Keith set a cappuccino down on the little table for Lance as he took his usual seat across from him.

 

“You're a saint,” Lance sighed, bringing the drink to his face to inhale the aroma seeping through the slot in the travel lid. As he took a tentative sip from the steaming beverage, his phone buzzed on the table next to his hand. 

 

“Ronnie?” Keith read upside down. Lance nodded. 

 

“Veronica. She’s trying to nail down the specifics for Saturday.”

 

“She’s your older sister,” Keith confirmed. 

 

“Apparently Marco is going to try to come after all,” Lance reported as he read the wall of text from Veronica, a smile widening across his face. “They’re gonna bring all the kids to get pictures with me in my band uniform.”

 

“Aw that’s awesome, babe,” Keith beamed back at him. 

 

“You’ll love mi sobrinitos. Santiago is eight, and Isabella is six. They’re Marco’s. Veronica’s husband is keeping the baby for the weekend, but if you decide to come for his birthday party you can meet him then. He’s literally the cutest infant in the entire world, not that I’m biased or anything. My two younger siblings, Luis and Rachel are both in high school -”

 

Keith rested his chin in his palm as he listened intently to Lance babble happily about his family members. It brought a smile to is face to watch Lance’s excitement about seeing them this weekend bubble over. He almost forgot about the knot of anxiety in his stomach at the idea of meeting essentially Lance’s entire family all in one day. Though he was certain the specifics of his and Lance’s relationship would remain unspoken for at least this weekend, he hoped to make a good first impression. 

 

“-but yeah, I'm their favorite uncle, so they pretty much do whatever I tell them to do which drives Ronnie  _ crazy _ ,” he chuckled, shrugging. “She's just jealous I'm the best.”

 

“Is Abuelita coming too?”

 

Lance nodded enthusiastically. 

 

“She promised she'd cook dinner with me after the game Saturday night before they all head back to the hotel. Are you working Saturday?”

 

“For like four hours during the game, yeah, but I'll be off at six. Do you want me to come for dinner?”

 

Lance detected Keith's nervous lip chewing as he asked the question. 

 

“They're going to love you, honey. We will probably have to pretend we're just friends this time, but I think if they meet you in that context first, maybe they'll be less upset when I eventually come out to them. I want them to know you're my boyfriend. I want them to know I luhh… uhh… th-that I uh…” Lance's eyes fell from Keith's widened gaze to his hands on the table. “Sorry. I didn't mean to say, um… what I meant was…”

 

“Lance,” Keith began, a genuine little half-smile greeting Lance when he looked back up. “It's okay. I'm not upset or freaked out. I understand if you're not comfortable with… that… right now.”

 

Blue eyes reflected both fear and relief at Keith at the same time as Lance's shoulders relaxed. 

 

“Thanks Keith.” Lance peeked down at his watch and sighed. “Back to painting. Your place tonight? I've got an extra showcase rehearsal with Allura. We're doing a run with the costumes to make sure there aren't any malfunctions waiting to happen. Pidge mentioned she wasn't going to be home until super late and I sort of wanted to show you my outfit, if that's something you'd be interested in…”

 

Keith couldn't answer fast enough.

 

“Um yes. Definitely yes.”

 

Lance smirked as he stood to leave, coffee in hand. 

 

“Part of it is kind of hard to unfasten on my own. I might need help taking it off,” he winked.

 

Keith's mouth ran dry at the prospect, though his brain couldn't even begin to imagine what type of pole costume would be difficult for Lance to get out of by himself. 

 

“See you tonight, babe.” Lance pecked Keith's cheek and walked out of the building. Keith was able to stave off the panic until Lance made it to the door, but as soon as his lanky boyfriend was out of sight he fumbled for his phone in his pocket, nearly dropping it.

 

(10:43) Please tell me you're somewhere near the Union dying from the lack of social interaction in your life

 

As he waited for a reply, Keith picked nervously at his fingernails. He startled when the familiar, tired voice met his ears. 

 

“You rang?” Shiro laughed, setting his backpack on the floor and his laptop on the table. 

 

“Yeah, I'm, uh… Holy shit Shiro I'm freaking out and I don't really know why.” 

 

Shiro raised a concerned eyebrow. 

 

“Wanna start from the beginning?” The dark haired man with the yet unexplained scar across the bridge of his nose took a seat in the chair Lance had recently vacated. 

 

“Were you in love with Adam?” Keith blurted, trying to organize his train of thought. Shiro smiled sadly to himself. 

 

“Honestly? I still am. Why?”

 

That wasn't exactly the answer Keith had anticipated, and now he felt pretty shitty for bringing it up, but Shiro was the only person he could trust with this right now. 

 

“How do you know? Like, what about him, or about you, makes you so sure?” Keith ran an anxious hand through his hair. 

 

“Wait. Do you think you're in love with Lance?” Shiro tilted his head curiously at the artist who sat across the table, scrubbing his face with his hands. 

 

“I don't know, Shiro. Isn't it like, way too fucking early for that? I've only  _ really _ done this once, and I was young and stupid and unstable and got my fucking heart ripped out. What is it even  _ like _ to love someone?”

 

Shiro leveled a knowing look back at Keith. 

 

“Why are you asking questions you clearly know the answers to?” Keith made no indication that he was going to answer that, so Shiro continued. “I know I'm still in love with Adam because of the dumb stuff I still do when I think about him. The thought of running into him again is both horrible... and exhilarating to me. I wonder what he'd think of that new Thai place on Broadway and if he's seen the new Avengers movie yet. I miss him in the simplest ways… it was like that when we were together, too, though. The only difference was that I could just text him and take him out back then. I didn't have to wonder.” He scratched the back of his head as he explained. “I know I still love him because if he came back tomorrow, after everything I've dealt with and all the things he said when he left me, I'd take him back. In a heartbeat. Even if it was doomed to end the same way. I'd do it all over again. Just for the chance to tell him one more time. Maybe I'm a sap, or weak, or just have really poor impulse control, but telling him that I love him was like an addiction for me. It was terrifying the first time, and I fought it tooth and nail because I didn't want to scare him away, but once the floodgates were open that was it. And honestly it made way for the closest, deepest relationship I've ever had with anyone.”

 

Keith was silent for a moment. Shiro hadn't ever shared any of this with him. When he and Adam broke up, he dealt with it by holing up in his apartment and talking to literally no one for two weeks. At the time, Keith understood that. Of course he did. When Eric left, Keith's flight response completely took over. Talking to other people about it, just the idea of letting anyone else in, close enough to the wound to damage him further, had sent him on a half-crazed roadtrip across the state for godsake. Even now, those words burned like acid in his chest.  _ If you really loved me _ … but didn't he? Didn't Keith really love Eric? After everything, now he wasn't even sure.

 

“What happened?” The question was quiet, careful. But Shiro didn't seem to be upset by it.

 

“Adam and I came to an impasse about how I took of myself. He wanted me to see a therapist, among other things, and I didn't think I'd ever be able to do something like that. We fought, he left, and I found myself in the Student Counseling Center four months later, tapped of all emotional energy and out of viable coping mechanisms. I've been seeing a therapist ever since.” Shiro thought about this for a moment. “He broke my heart, but he saved my life.”

 

Keith's eyes widened at this. 

 

“But that's not why you texted me. What happened with Lance?”

 

“We were just hanging out and talking about seeing his family this weekend for the game. He wants to come out to them, and when he was saying how much he wanted to introduce me to them, he almost told me… I think he almost said he… loved me? He almost  _ said _ it. Oh my God.” Keith hid behind his hands as he felt his face redden. His heart pounded furiously against his ribcage, screaming at him to run and stay at the same time.

 

“Do you feel the same way?”

 

“I don't know?” Keith squeaked. 

 

“Bullshit.” Shiro crossed his arms over his chest. 

 

“But what if I'm  _ wrong _ , Shiro?” Keith peeked at him through his fingers. “What if something happens? What if I'm not good enough? What if he could be way happier with some pretty Catholic girl who could impress his parents and marry him and have kids with him? Do you know how much he loves kids? What if I can't be what he needs?”

 

“What if tomorrow we all get abducted by a giant blue robot lion and flown halfway across the Universe to fight in an intergalactic war?” Shiro rolled his eyes.

 

“Shiro what the fuck? Have you been smoking with Pidge?”

 

“Keith, listen to me.” Shiro took a deep breath. “You will never know unless you try. Trust me on that one. If you get too worried about what could go wrong, you might miss a chance to do something great.”

 

“I don't know that being gay and in love qualifies as ‘doing something great,’ Shiro,” Keith mumbled. 

 

“Keith you basically said it yourself. If you and Lance fall in love, you can't even get married in this country. People will mock you and exclude you and attack you for the rest of your life together. But you'll have each other in spite of all of that. That's pretty great, if you ask me. But I'm just a bitter gay man dying in Grad School so what do I know?” Shiro snorted. 

 

“A lot, actually,” Keith . “Thanks Shiro.”

 

“Anytime…” Shiro booted up his computer. “So, do you love him?”

 

“God yes,” Keith conceded, melting into the table and pressing his face against it in defeat. 

 

“I think you should tell him. It might make this weekend easier for him.”

 

“I'll… think about it.”

 

________________________________________

 

As he reached the top of the stairs that led to Keith and Pidge's apartment door, Lance felt a sudden unwelcome wave of anxiety slam into his chest.  _ This is dumb. He probably won't even like it. What if he thinks it's weird?  _ He squirmed a little to adjust the leather strap over his shoulder that was hidden beneath his jacket. Allura had insisted that he put his boots back on once he'd climbed the stairs. She said if the harness didn't kill Keith first, then the eight inch platform “sex stilettos” would. Lance took a breath to steady himself as he peeled off his sweatpants, forced his feet out of his socks and tennis shoes and back into the knee-high matte black leather boots, clasping the buckles quickly, and shoved his extra clothing into his backpack before he could chicken out and change his mind.

 

When Allura had initially suggested the matching boots for their duet, he'd thought she had officially lost it. There was  _ no way _ he could learn to walk, let alone  _ dance _ in shoes like that. As it turned out, he was wrong. Despite his initial clumsiness and the occasional stumble now and again, Lance had nearly mastered these boots. As a matter of fact, they made pole dancing even more fun since he could clack them together and slide on them across the floor. Plus they made his ass look great, so it really was a win-win all around. It took all of his willpower to knock on the door, but he affixed his flirtiest smirk to his face. He had a few ideas for tonight, and he didn't want to jeopardize the only night they'd have completely alone this week by getting stuck in his own head. 

 

His conversation with Keith earlier that day had stuck with him. He actually almost told Keith how he felt. After running away from the cafe, he'd confided in Hunk from the relative safety of the supply closet in the art room. 

 

“Why didn't you just say it? It's how you feel, right?” Hunk had begun digging through a container to look for more painter's tape.

 

“I don't know, Hunk. I'm just scared… the last time I felt even remotely like this… I got hurt.” Lance avoided Hunk's eyes. “And this is so much more intense than it was before. I feel drawn to him almost. Like a magnet. I'm just worried that he doesn't feel the same way.”

 

“Dude he's crazy about you. I understand you're scared. I understand that he might even be just as worried about it. Didn't you say his first love hurt him too?” 

 

Lance nodded. 

 

“If you could see the way he looks at you when you aren't looking at him, you'd know why I'm so sure about this. He's scared too, but he definitely is feeling the same way.” Hunk inspected a spare painting knife before tucking it back into the box he found it in. “Even I trust it, Lance, and I threatened to booby-trap his apartment with Legos. It's real. And I'm happy for you both.”

 

Lance smiled at that. 

 

“That's… wow… thank you Hunk.”

 

“Now let's get back to our easels before Dr. Kolivan thinks you've snuck off somewhere to nap again.”

 

“It was  _ one time _ and I was finished with the assignment!” Lance pouted. 

 

The slight squeaking of the door hinge brought Lance back to the present, his nerves settled momentarily by Hunk's kind words and the familiar gravitation he felt towards the boy behind the door. 

 

“You're not Pidge,” Keith joked as the door swung open. “Woah. Are those heels?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Lance squeaked. So much for his calmed nerves. “Are they ridiculous? Maybe they're ridiculous…” 

 

Keith reached up to brush Lance's cheek lightly with his fingertips. “Not at all. I just wasn't expecting them. They're, uh…” Keith glanced down and swallowed hard. “Hot. You look great in them. Damn.” Keith stepped aside to allow Lance into the apartment. 

 

Lance blushed at the compliment, but his confidence soared as he felt Keith's gaze definitely land on his ass as he walked across the linoleum of the kitchen floor. He dropped his backpack next to the couch to take his time removing his bomber jacket. Being somewhat aware of how his costume had affected nearly everyone at the studio tonight, Lance was fairly confident Keith was a dead man walking. Allura's concept for a post-apocalyptic, steampunk duet to that Radioactive song by Imagine Dragons had really come to life in the last few weeks. Lance was actually proud of how it'd turned out and was so excited to finally share this part of his life with Keith. Seven months ago there was no way he'd be caught  _ dead _ half-naked in a fluorescent-lit kitchen in what was basically a brown leather bondage harness, black booty shorts, and knee-high stripper boots. But with Allura's encouragement and the empowerment he'd discovered in the pole studio, here he was, adjusting the goggles one of their pole-mates had crafted for him from swimming goggles, spare clock gears, and  _ so much _ hot glue, that hung around his neck.

 

“What do you think?”

 

“Um,” Keith sauntered over, allowing his gaze to wander from the buckles on Lance's shoulder to the platforms on his feet before wrapping his arms around the now-taller man's waist. “You sure you want it off?”

 

Lance chuckled. 

 

“I mean, if you're into it I guess I can wear it for a little longer,” he shrugged, winking. “The whole being  _ this much _ taller than you thing is kinda weird, but that goes away if I'm not standing…” Lance reached behind Keith to splay his fingers gently across his lower back, the height difference even more evident in that Lance couldn't even reach Keith's butt. The brush of Keith's red flannel shirt across his bare midriff was already making his knees weak.

 

Keith trailed his fingers up Lance's thigh. “I could help you find somewhere to not stand…” he whispered against Lance's neck. 

 

“Hmm,” he pretended to think about it as Keith's hand continued to wander, gasping slightly at the light squeeze Keith gave his backside. Keith smirked openly up at him. “That sounds acceptable. One problem: I haven't really done carpet in these.” Lance placed his hands on Keith's shoulders to balance himself as he lifted one foot for emphasis.

 

“Definitely not a problem,” Keith half-growled. He pulled Lance closer and lifted him off his feet, eliciting a surprised laugh from Lance, who quickly wrapped his legs around Keith's waist. Upon entering his bedroom, Keith bumped the overhead light switch with his elbow, leaving only his bedside lamp to illuminate the room. He wanted Lance to feel as comfortable as possible, but he'd be lying if he said he'd be content to do this in the dark tonight.

 

After kicking the door shut, he braced Lance's back against it, still holding him up. Lance draped his arms over Keith's shoulders, regarding him with half-lidded eyes. 

 

“Sooo… you hate it,” he teased. 

 

“Mmm, entirely,” Keith trailed his lips along Lance's collarbone as his hands gripped tighter on his hips. Hissing, Lance made an effort to roll his pelvis against Keith's, to little avail given his current situation. A frustrated whimper escaped him, giving Keith all the encouragement he needed to draw this out. He took a studded leather strap between his teeth and tugged at it. 

 

“Keith, please,” Lance begged, panting. That was weird, honestly. Keith typically had to work to get him to that point. He glanced up at Lance's flushed face, bathed in the warm lamp light, from where he nibbled at Lance's chest between two harness straps. The eye contact between them was heavier than Keith had expected, for a reason he was certain he could guess. 

 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

 

Lance nodded, bringing a shaky hand to Keith's face. 

 

“I want to try more tonight, if you're up to it.”

 

Okay, that was also rather unexpected. So far Keith had been the one to suggest new bedtime activities. He certainly wasn't going to complain. Lance could probably ask to do just about anything with him and he'd be putty in his hands. 

 

“Did you have something specific in mind?”

 

Lance involuntarily ducked his head at the question, but scowled determinedly at the bedpost nearest to them.

 

“Can we try… I want to, uh…” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I want to have sex with you.”

 

Keith froze, stunned. When he looked up, Lance was decidedly avoiding his eyes, and Keith could tell he was wringing his hands. “Hey,” he pressed a kiss to the underside of Lance's jaw. “Look at me,” his voice was soft. “Are you sure? We don't have to rush, you know that right? I'm perfectly happy with where we are, I wanna make sure you know that.”

 

Lance peeked up shyly at Keith through his eyelashes. 

 

“I'm sure. I'm nervous, but I know I'm safe with you. I did a lot of thinking today, especially after coffee this morning. I don't feel like it's much of a secret, but I want to be honest with you no matter how scary it is. I'm not expecting you to respond or feel a certain way, but this has been literally on the tip of my tongue for days…” Lance forced himself to meet Keith's eyes. “I love you.”

 

Keith felt like he'd been doused with ice water. All he could do was stare dumbly up at him. “What? Are you…” He could feel the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as a warmth spread throughout his chest making him dizzy. “What?”

 

Lance smiled in relief back at him. 

 

“I am helplessly, irrevocably, and probably stupidly, completely in love with you, Keith Kogane. But I can't do a damn thing about it except show you how much I mean it.” Lance dipped his head to press a lingering kiss to Keith's lips, and then brought his face to Keith's ear. “So  _ please _ , Keith. Take all of me? I'm yours anyway.”

 

Lance's heart beat painfully in his chest. He almost wanted to cry at how entirely exposed he felt. The scar on his heart ached, but it was much too late to try to prevent a second one. He'd already marked off the Keith-shaped piece of it and sold it to the man standing in front of him. He didn't dare lift his head to examine Keith's face. Not yet. As his words hung in the air, he focused on slowing his racing heart, and breathing in the piney scent of Keith's cologne.

 

Keith turned and walked over to the bed, setting Lance on the edge before kneeling in front of him. Lance suddenly became quite intrigued by the pattern of the quilt he was sitting on. Keith's hands gently rested on either side of his face. 

 

“Hey.” Blue eyes met his and it felt like a bolt of lightning hit his chest and spread through his body to the tips of his fingers and toes. “I've never known anyone like you, and I thought I was going crazy when I realized how fast I was falling for you… but then I realized I didn't care because you're one of the most amazing people I've ever met and…” Lance could see the flush on his cheeks in the dim light as his eyes fell to the side briefly before capturing Lance's again. “I love you too.”

 

It was Lance's turn to stare stupidly up at Keith. 

 

“You… love me too. You love me too?!” A blinding smile found its way to Lance's face. 

 

Keith nodded, his characteristic roguish grin spreading across his features. “I do.”

 

Happiness tingled under every inch of Lance's skin, imbuing him with what felt like electricity as his logical brain turned completely to mush. He fought the familiar urge to ramble excitedly through the total relief he felt. Keith accepted his confession and returned his feelings? What had he been so damn nervous about in the first place?

 

“I meant what I said. I want you to be my first. Please?”

 

Keith responded by crushing his lips against Lance's hungrily, pushing him back so he was lying down as he crawled up the other man's body, touching every inch he could reach. When they came up for air Lance could hear Keith whispering his love against his skin and it intoxicated him.

 

“Let's get you more comfortable,” Keith suggested, lifting his head from Lance's shoulder. “Not that I don't fucking love you in this outfit, but I suddenly find myself very impatient to take it off of you.”

 

Lance shook the bed in a quiet chuckle. 

 

“I like that idea.”

 

“Were you wanting to bottom?”

 

Lance covered his eyes with one arm. 

 

“I also like that idea, I think.” 

 

“I'm versatile. It doesn't make any difference to me, babe. I just want you to enjoy this.” 

 

Lance peeked up to find Keith smiling down warmly at him. 

 

“I want to do it the way you think is going to be easiest for me to learn. I'm, uh, completely out of my element here.” Lance cheesed up at him.

 

Keith brought his face down to Lance's and nuzzled against his jaw. 

 

“Let me take care of you, tonight, Love. You will have plenty of opportunities to learn. You just relax and tell me what feels good, okay?”

 

With a cute little whine at the hot breath ghosting across his skin, Lance nodded and sat up to aid in the removal of his costume. Keith's fingers lingered on his body as they deftly undid the several buckles holding the harness in place. Lance could feel himself shiver as Keith's lips and tongue lightly trailed over his throat. He kicked his boots and shorts off the end of the bed. When Keith began stripping off his own clothes, Lance clung to the flannel button down. 

 

“Can I hold on to this?” he squeaked.

 

“Of course you can,” Keith agreed, handing him the shirt and placing a kiss on his forehead. Lance smiled and brought the shirt to his face and laid back on the pillows, glad to have something to muffle what he was sure would be the most ridiculous noises he'd ever made in his life. 

 

Keith began methodically kissing every plane of exposed tanned skin he could reach. It was tender, reverent, like he might break beneath the touch. Lance's heart swelled. Keith was always relatively careful with him, but this was so different. Halfway through the second pass across Lance's chest, Keith paused to suck a tiny bruise just below Lance's collarbone, low enough that it would remain hidden under most of Lance's shirts. 

 

“Mine,” he mumbled endearingly against Lance's chest. 

 

“Mmmmn,” Lance hummed happily, his fingers tangled in Keith's hair. He tugged forward, bringing their lips together as Keith pressed down against him. Moaning against Keith's mouth, he wrapped his arms around the raven-haired man's neck and pulled him even deeper into the embrace. 

 

“God, please make all the noise you want. Pidge is out, this is an external wall, and the downstairs neighbors do  _ not _ extend the same courtesy to me as I have to them. I want to hear you.” Keith pointedly ground his hips down to pull another soft moan from Lance's chest. By the time Keith had worked his way back up Lance's body, Lance's skin was abuzz with the different sensations of Keith's lips, teeth, tongue, and hands. When Keith applied lube and started to gently massage him he couldn't help the noises that escaped his lips, especially with Keith's mouth still teasing the soft skin around his throat. He gasped loudly as one finger gingerly pushed inside of him, slowly opening him up, except Keith seemed to be purposefully avoiding that place that made his head spin. Kisses fell across his chest and shoulders, and though the act itself felt good, it was almost more of a massage-type of good that was honestly driving Lance a little insane at the anticipation. But when Lance tried to tilt his hips against Keith's fingers, he was steadied with Keith's other hand.

 

“Patience, Love, I need you to relax, not tense up. Trust me, okay?” He sat back and pressed a kiss to the point of Lance's hip. When Keith was met with an adorably impatient mewl from above him, he caved for a few seconds, luxuriously taking Lance into his mouth. Arching slightly off the bed, Lance's hands flew to Keith's hair, scratching and tugging encouragingly at his scalp. But Keith's movements remained languid, and unhurried, and eventually Lance sank back onto the mattress and carded his fingers distractedly through Keith's hair, surrendering to the sensations.

 

“Fuck…” Keith murmured against his skin. “You're doing so good, baby. You think you're ready for another?”

 

Lance whined, tugging at his hair by way of response, and Keith chuckled. There was a hunger in his eyes that was melting Lance's insides and making it hard to breathe and he never wanted it to stop. When Keith’s first finger was joined by a second, a low moan tore free from his throat eliciting an appreciative growl from the man above him. Lance could feel Keith's teeth grazing his throat, his tongue tracing a delicate pattern along his collarbone, and Lance was drowning in him. After a few moments, seemingly forgetting everything Keith had just told him, Lance was writhing, trying to get even a little pressure over his favorite place. This earned him a stern but amused look from Keith, who again pressed Lance's hips down into the mattress to stop him. Lance whimpered in response.

 

“Someone is  _ very _ impatient today,” Keith purred in his ear. Lance's body arched off the bed at that and he unconsciously took his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to muffle his groans. He felt Keith's free hand drag up his body to cup his neck, brushing a thumb roughly over Lance's mouth before covering it with his own, hungry and insistent in a way that set Lance's lungs on fire. After a few moments, Keith broke away, trailing his tongue along Lance's jawline to breathe into his ear. 

 

“Ready for another?” Keith's voice was like velvet against his cheek, and he could barely manage a nod in response when the Keith's tongue was teasing the hollows of his throat like it was his damn  _ job _ .

 

This time it burned a little, but Lance barely tensed before Keith had completely halted his progress and waited for Lance to adjust. He soothed Lance with light touches and ghosts of kisses peppered across his face. Lance panted heavily, eyes screwed shut and hands scrabbling for purchase at Keith's shoulders. 

 

“You are so pretty like this,” Keith murmured into Lance's neck, making him gasp for air. “You still doing okay?” 

 

Certain he was unable to vocally respond in any sort of dignified fashion, Lance nodded enthusiastically. As the discomfort subsided, he rolled his hips in one more attempt to satisfy both the curiosity of what it might be like to find that spot for himself and the craving for the wave of pleasure building up beneath Keith's ministrations to crest and crash down upon him to swallow him whole. Given their positions and the way Keith's hand was already angled, he was far more successful this time, as the soft pad of a finger brushed against him. Fingernails sunk into Keith's shoulders and Lance's entire body shook and Keith might've been a little perturbed at Lance's insistence to  _ not relax at all _ if he wasn't watching the most beautiful boy in the entire universe nearly unravel at the lightest of stimulation from Keith's own hand. Lance finally, loudly, let loose the slew of four-letter words and their Spanish counterparts, followed by a rumbling moan that accompanied the shudder of his muscles. He caught his breath for a moment before peeking up at Keith's face hovering above him. His pupils were blown wide and gaze unfocused, the glittering blue of his irises a mere sliver of sapphire halo around pools of black.

 

“Dios mio, cariño, por favor… Tómame… Keith, please?” he begged, voice raspy and completely wrecked in a way that made Keith want to give in to anything he asked for. He just needed a few extra minutes to finish prepping now that Lance was  _ this _ tight. After some consideration, Keith decided that the view had definitely been worth the minor setback, if one could even really call it that, since it appeared the experience had also decimated the last bricks of the levy that had held back the urgent noises from Lance's chest now filling his bedroom. Yeah, he could definitely get used to that. 

 

“You've been so good,” Keith whispered against his skin. “Just wait a little longer, beautiful, you're almost ready for me.”

 

Lance groaned, forcibly pulling Keith's mouth to his, aching to feel every inch of him and also hoping to muffle some of the noises escaping from his own lips. Though Keith had demonstrated an air of calm control up to this point, Lance could tell his restraint was beginning to falter. Everything about his movements was becoming rougher, more desperate, and Lance wondered what would happen if he helped that along. So he took one hand and wound his fingers into Keith's hair, twisting a little harder than he normally would, while with the other he dug his nails into Keith's shoulder and slowly dragged them down his back. Keith immediately arched into his touch, a low growl escaping his chest. 

 

After a few more seconds that Lance found only debatably necessary in his foggy mental state, Keith carefully withdrew from him and sat up, sounds of protest slipping past Lance's lips. 

 

“Flip over, baby,” Keith's voice was breathless in his ear, lips pressed insistently against his neck. “That way you can control how deep it is, okay?”

 

“But I still want to kiss you,” Lance whined. Keith chuckled happily, capturing Lance's lips briefly between his own. 

 

“I know, but I really don't want to hurt you, honey. I want you to be able to move away if it's too much.” 

 

“Pft. Logic,” Lance scoffed. “I thought you said you aren't used to being the responsible one?”

 

Keith laughed again, stroking Lance's cheek with one hand. “I'm also not used to being this in love with someone, so give me a chance to adjust,” he winked. “Now do you want me to flip you over myself?” Keith raised an eyebrow in challenge, a devious grin spreading across his face.

 

“Uh, n-no I can do it,” Lance decided, tongue-tied by how freaking handsome Keith was, smirking down at him in the warm light. He carefully rolled onto his stomach and pushed up onto his hands and knees. It was odd at first. They'd never done anything like this. He wasn't sure he'd like it much until Keith was dragging his tongue roughly up Lance's spine and squeezing his hips. 

 

“You're so beautiful,” Keith muttered against his skin. It was almost too quiet for Lance to hear, and he barely had enough time to wonder if he was supposed to, since Keith chose that moment to begin trailing feather-light kisses down his back. Every once in a while Keith would allow his teeth to graze Lance's skin, because Lance would make a tiny noise of surprise that he just couldn't get enough of. His hand wandered around to the front of Lance's hips to stroke him, and he heard Lance's breath catch in his throat. 

 

“Maybe next time, I'll ride you instead,” Keith breathed. “Does that sound like something you'd want?”

 

Lance answered with a barely contained whimper. That was most definitely something he wanted. He never imagined Keith would be so commanding as he'd turned out to be. Absolutely no complaints came to mind about it as he heard what must've been Keith opening a condom. In his current position it was almost silly to him that  _ that _ would be embarrassing right now, but he felt his face flush despite himself. 

 

“Are you doing alright, sweetheart?” Keith's voice was gentle. “I wanna make sure this is still okay.”

 

Remembering the shirt he'd asked Keith for, Lance reached out to it and pulled it to him, lowering his elbows to the mattress so he could surround himself in the woodsy aroma that lingered on the soft flannel. 

 

“I'm good,” Lance mumbled. He took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to relax his muscles, daring to lean back and rub against Keith, who hummed in response. “I want you. Te deseo. Please.”

 

Keith didn't need more encouragement than that. Just to be safe, and also because he simply couldn't help himself, he took his time applying a little more lube to both of them, savoring all the tiny noises that Lance couldn't hold back. He really had no idea what he did to deserve the love of someone like him.

 

Slowly and carefully, Keith began to push forward, his hands steadying Lance's hips as they moved together briefly before Keith pulled back. He repeated the movement, still going slow, but pushing just barely further. His fingers dug into Lance's hips as he resisted the urge to increase his speed, but Lance was gasping so beautifully below him as his body opened up and Keith wanted nothing more than to keep hearing those sounds. 

 

“Mmmn, tan bueno, Amor. Ah! Más fuerte… Keith, please… pleasepleaseplease…” Lance, endearingly, was reduced into a babbling mess of pleas for more. Once he started, Lance found he couldn't stop talking, though mostly he was just searching for the right thing to say to break Keith's composure. He felt really  _ really _ good, and was more than ready to lose himself in the new sensations. Desperate for more, he sank from his elbows to lay flat on his chest, deepening the angle of his hips and the arch of his back. He began to meet Keith's gentle thrusting, a breathy moan escaping him in answer to Keith's sharp inhale at the change. 

 

“Fuck. I somehow forgot how fucking flexible you are and holy shit, Lance you look stunning.” His voice sounded strained. “You feel so good, baby.”

 

Lance could barely articulate a response with Keith's fingers digging urgently into his hips. He could tell the other man was still holding back, and Lance wanted to see him fall over the edge. He let Keith take control back for a moment, no longer meeting his movements. Not that that meant he wasn't thoroughly enjoying himself, in fact he was struggling to maintain any level of composure with Keith touching him like this. But he wanted to try something. 

 

Keith was struggling. He'd been with plenty of other people, but no one had ever made him feel like  _ this _ . More than anything he wanted to make Lance scream his name, but the last thing he wanted was to misread something and accidentally hurt him in the process. 

 

Lance solved this problem for him by waiting until Keith was preparing to thrust deeper and pushing up hard against him at the same time so their hips were flush against each other. Keith couldn't stop the groan that tore past his lips as his fingers gripped Lance's hips even tighter. 

 

“Fuck,” he gasped. “You're  _ determined _ to make this more difficult.” His voice was a growl, but Lance could tell he wasn't too upset. He twisted a bit to cast a sly glance over his shoulder. 

 

“No, actually, I'm trying to make it  _ harder _ . There's a difference.” He winked, giggling at his own joke. “Please just fuck me. I'm literally dying down here. You feel so good, I'm honestly trying not to cry.”

 

“Hmmm,” Keith rumbled. He pulled back almost completely before pushing forward again at an agonizingly slow pace while leaning over Lance's back as one arm snaked around his waist, his fingers toying with Lance's nipple. “I have an idea you might like then,” he purred.

 

“Oh?” Lance tried to sound nonchalant, but was pretty positive it wasn't working. 

 

“What if I took you on your back now instead? Since you don't seem interested in pulling away anyways, and I'd like to see you…” he lightly dragged his nails across Lance's chest. 

 

“Keith, you could have me upside down, if you really wanted. I just want  _ you _ . Mierda, quiero que me folles,” he moaned, wiggling his hips back. Keith's fingers twitched against Lance's skin before he was grabbing at Lance, flipping him back over and pinning him to the bed, both of them panting. 

 

“You stop me if it hurts,” Keith growled, pressing his forehead to Lance's. 

 

“I will. Just, please, Keith I want… ah!” 

 

Keith rolled his hips forward, pressing as hard as he dared into Lance, who quickly wrapped his legs around Keith's waist in response. He gave a few slow but deliberate thrusts before he smirked down at Lance through a curtain of long black hair. 

 

“Good?”

 

“Yeah,” Lance breathed. “So good…”

 

“Excellent.” With that, Keith hitched his arms under Lance's knees and folded his legs up to his chest. The next movement from Keith, which was mostly him just adjusting for better leverage, had Lance shaking beneath him. 

 

“God, you're perfect,” Keith groaned into his ear, nipping at his lobe, drawing another gorgeous sound from Lance's lips. He wanted to commit every moan to memory, still unable to completely believe that this was real. That Lance loved him, and  _ wanted _ him, and that Keith could have him like this. Keith would be lying if he said he'd never thought about what sex with Lance might be like, but seeing Lance's body pressed against his own, chest flushed and stuttering for breath, lips red from biting back the lovely noises that Keith was methodically drawing from them, and his skin burning under Keith's hands, Keith knew his imagination had failed him. Because he never could've come up with a picture as pretty as the one that was begging for him now. 

 

There was something completely overwhelming about this. It was so intimate. It was like Lance's heart was on a mission to burst out of his chest. With Keith looking down at him like that, he was a goner for sure. The weird part was, he was  _ pretty sure _ he'd already finished twice, but where there was normally hypersensitivity and exhaustion, he found only even more desire overcoming him. This position was a rather precise way for Keith to hit that place that ached low in his abdomen, and he couldn't help but shiver every time. A familiar heat that hadn't really even ebbed entirely was pooling back in his stomach. For a second, his brain registered that this had  _ definitely _ already happened twice, but that he was somehow still dry.  _ OH _ . Well okay, then. That's cool. If there had been any doubts in his mind about multiple, dry orgasms from prostate stimulation, he guessed he could put those to bed. He chuckled at the thought, closing his eyes and reaching up to wind his fingers through Keith's hair. 

 

“What's so funny?” Keith panted, grinning against Lance’s neck. 

 

“I just... love you,” Lance smiled, earning himself another dizzying kiss. 

 

“Mmmm, and I love you…” God, Lance loved hearing him say it. “And I think I’m pretty close, but I don’t wanna finish until I watch you fall apart… not that I think you’re holding on by much either…” As he was speaking, Keith freed one of his lover’s legs so that he could use his hand to stroke Lance’s length, an action that very nearly sent Lance over the edge on its own. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck, bringing their lips together hungrily as Keith thrust deeper, more insistently, until there was nothing Lance could do, or say, or  _ think _ unless it was him. He could feel the tidal wave of pleasure reaching its peak, and he clutched Keith even tighter as it came crashing over him, swift and powerful and undeniable. When it began to recede, he felt it sweep away all other worries and distractions and insecurities in its wake, and for just one beautiful, glorious moment, everything felt perfect.


	16. Eggs and Orange Slices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii. This has been mostly written for a while now. I'm not gonna lie to you, mental health is a bitch, and Dunu and I aren't friends with it very often. Sorry it's been a hot minute since we last posted. We promise to do our best to update more regularly. Hopefully the end of winter will bring us inspiration and time to write. 
> 
> With love,
> 
> R3d
> 
> CW: this chapter deals a lot with the fear and anxiety of coming out to your family.

 

They got to sleep in, all things considered, for a game day. With an afternoon game time, Lance and the crew didn't have to be anywhere until mid-morning. When Lance's usual alarm rang at seven, Keith stole the phone before Lance could get to it.

 

“Babe, nooo. Do not hit snooze.”

 

“Why not?” he grumbled into his pillow. “You said call time is like ten, right?” Keith silenced the alarm for another fifteen minutes.

 

“Yeah but I should get up. We have to stagger showers…”

 

The shower in the upstairs bathroom kicked on.

 

“The Hunk has granted us extra snuggle time,” Keith joked, curling himself closer. “We have been blessed. Do not question the will of the Gods.”

 

“How can I argue with that?” Lance chuckled. He wrapped his arms around Keith's shoulders and breathed in the familiar atmosphere of his room. Glancing around, he smiled to himself. Keith had slowly made a space for himself around the room. His jacket hung haphazardly next to Lance's on the desk chair, his backpack sat on the floor by the closet, he'd brought over an extra phone charger that was now a permanent fixture in the power strip behind Lance's bedside table.

 

Of course, Keith's place was showing the undeniable signs of Lance's presence as well. Once when Keith was digging though his closet, Lance happened to catch his eye on a few rolled-up posters in the back corner. This naturally led to an all-out, completely protested, raid of the apartment that turned up a box of knick-knacks, a couple more posters, and a handful of childhood photos that Lance gushed over for a full twenty minutes. All of these now decorated the walls and various surfaces in Keith's room.

 

The biggest change, however, was a virtual one. Lance went to add Keith on Facebook to invite him to band-related events as an easier way for Keith to keep track of them. But Keith's nearly empty page, complete with a motorcycle as the profile picture (“ _Really_ , Keith?!” “I haven't checked this is in years, what do you want from me?!”) was more than he could stand. He added the few friends Keith had managed to make in college to Keith's friends list and snuck a photo of him driving his car to set as his profile picture. Now as they lay in bed, Lance scrolled through his own newsfeed, liking photos and commenting on posts. It seemed to Keith that every fourth person on Lance's feed was related to him.

 

“Do you even know half the people you're friends with?” Keith asked as he watched Lance scroll.

 

“Probably?” Lance answered, honestly uncertain.

 

“Hey, was that Veronica?” Keith asked as Lance passed by a photo of a young woman who looked distinctly similar to him.

 

“Oh yeah, that's her! She posts photos constantly. Especially of the baby and her dog. She's one of _those_ moms,” he laughed. “We sort of always knew she would be though. She's a lot like me, honestly, except she's bull-headed and makes terrible jokes.”

 

“So then she's exactly like you,” Keith chuckled.

 

They struggled for a moment as Lance tried to shove Keith away from him in mock-offense and Keith latched onto Lance's torso with all four limbs. Breathless from laughing and panting at the effort of unsuccessfully pushing Keith off of him, Lance gave up first, flopping back onto the bed in resignation.

 

“But yeah, I always know what's going on at home between her and Rachel. Chel is bit more informative with her posts than anything. She's hardly ever in her own photos unless it's a selfie with a friend. I think it's because of her braces though. She hates them.”

 

“Wait, so that photo of Veronica was recent?” Keith glanced at Lance, confused.

 

“...yeah…”

 

“I thought you said they were meeting up with you at the parade block.”

 

“They are.” Lance scrolled back up to Veronica's picture. It was a selfie of her in the middle row of seats of their parents’ van with Luis and Rachel asleep in the back seat behind her captioned, “little stinkers wouldn't sit next to me. Payback, hermanitos <3”

 

Lance checked the time stamp. It was from two hours ago, which meant they left early and that they'd be arriving into town like _right now_. But their hotel check-in wasn't until eleven. What were they going to do for the three hours leading up to…

 

There was a rapid knock at the front door downstairs, and Lance's heart rose to his throat. He'd prepared for his family to be over that evening and for Veronica and his mother to snoop around his room per their usual habits. But that was supposed to be _after_ Keith was gone and all of his stuff went with him. Lance flew out of bed and pulled on the t shirt and flannel pants that he'd only worn for maybe six minutes last night before Keith had kissed him out of them. He'd already moved all sex, alcohol, and pole dancing-related paraphernalia into a box on the floor of Allura's closet. He'd changed the password on his phone. He'd cleaned and organized his closet, desk, and the kitchen to impress Abuelita. But none of that was going to be able to explain away the _disheveled, practically naked_ _boy_ _in his bed_. He turned presently to see Keith standing calmly, already dressed in his clothes from yesterday.

 

“Keith what do I…”

 

“Breathe, Love.” Keith held up his hands as they heard Allura shouting at the door that she was coming to open it. “Let me handle it.”

 

Lance was about to protest when Keith grabbed a pillow and the extra blanket off of Lance's bed and tossed them onto the floor.

 

“What…?”

 

Keith didn't have time to explain. When Allura opened the door, they heard Rachel, Veronica, and Luis arguing as they made for the stairs. Keith unzipped his backpack and pretended to check that it contained everything he'd brought with him as they reached the landing and threw Lance's door open.

 

“Hey, man are my shoes over there?” Keith asked loudly as Veronica entered the room.

 

“Uhhh, no I think they're downstairs…” Lance looked around the room stupidly as he felt Veronica's eyes assessing the situation. “Hey, Ronnie, you're here early.”

 

Keith glanced up at Lance's siblings gathered in the doorway.

 

“Oh, hi,” he greeted them casually. “You must be Lance's family. I'm Keith,” he held out a hand to Veronica who took it enthusiastically. He smiled at her as best he could through his nerves and hoped to whatever God was listening that this would work.

 

“Veronica,” she introduced. “What, uh… what's going on?” She looked confused between the two of them, but said nothing.

 

“¡Mijo! Baja a saludar a tu abuela… oh. Hello.” A woman who Keith assumed must be Lance's mother rounded the corner and smiled at Keith. “¿Quien es este?”

 

_Oh good, that was one Lance had taught him._

 

“Keith Kogane, Mrs. McClain. I'm, uh, one of Lance's Spanish students. No soy muy bueno, but Lance is helping me get by.”

 

Lance struggled to keep his mouth closed as he looked, dumbfounded, at Keith. Veronica narrowed her eyes suspiciously at both of them, but remained silent, moving further into the room so Lance's mom could step inside as well.

 

“I see,” she smiled warmly at him. “Well, don't leave on our account, I'm sure you're hungry, and it would seem Lance couldn't be bothered to get up at a decent hour -”

 

“Mamá, it's the weekend!” Lance rolled his eyes.

 

“-you should join us for breakfast!”

 

Keith didn't need to see Lance's face to know how panicked he was at this suggestion. “That's very generous, but I actually overslept myself,” he let some of his embarrassment at being caught in his boyfriend's bedroom by his boyfriend's _entire family_ show in the hope that it would be misinterpreted. “My family will be getting into town soon as well and I'm supposed to meet them.” Specifically to draw attention to it, Keith picked up and folded the blanket from the floor and handed it to Lance. “Maybe I'll see you at the game. My mom wanted to go, so Sam might've bought tickets.”

 

“Uh, yeah. Cool.” Lance said awkwardly as he began to make the bed.

 

 _Dammit he is_ so _bad at this._ “Later,” he offered casually, shouldering his backpack. As he passed Veronica on his way to the stairs, he couldn't help the feeling that she saw a _lot_ more than Lance's mom did, especially as her eyes scanned her brother and the room around him. Keith waved casually to Allura and two people who must've been Abuelita and Lance's father before pulling his shoes on and retreating out the front door.

 

Veronica made to help Lance fix his fitted sheet as he tugged the corner just a little too hard. Luis ran to Lance's window as Keith got into his car.

 

“Woah! That was _his Mustang?!_ ”

 

“Hehe yeah, he delivers pizza in that thing, believe it or not,” Lance chuckled. “I'll be down in a minute. Sounds like Hunk just got out of the shower, so…”

 

When he moved to usher them out of his room, he was met with a bit of resistance, as expected, but he was finally able to convince them to join Papá and Abuelita in the living room until after he'd showered. It smelled like Abuelita had already made herself at home in the kitchen, much to his roommates’ delight, he was sure. Speaking of his roommates, he sighed to himself as he texted their group chat, waiting for the water to heat back up.

 

\---

 

(08:35) Lance: I am SO SORRY they didn't tell me they were coming early!

 

(08:35) Allura: It's okay, I showered last night so I was already dressed. I was just confused. They seem oddly fine with Keith randomly leaving your room at 8am…

 

(08:36) Lance: He pulled some sort of Jedi Master mind trick and convinced them he’s one of my Spanish students. Which is genius. So yeah, if they ask…

 

(08:37) Allura: Got it.

 

(08:37) Hunk: Noted

 

\---

 

Lance showered quickly, which was honestly a feat for him, and headed back downstairs in his practice uniform. Abuelita was serving breakfast to the assembly of people now strewn about the dining and living room.

 

“¡Lance! Ayúdame a servir los huevos por favor.”

 

“Sí Abuelita. ¿Cómo estás?”

 

Lance stepped into the kitchen to help his grandmother finish moving all of the food she'd prepared into the dining room. As Allura took a bite of one of the oranges that Lance's parents had brought in with them and Abuelita had separated into slices, Veronica leaned back in her seat next to her on the couch.

 

“So that Keith guy is cute,” she started.

 

“Keith? Oh, Lance's tutee. Hehe yeah he's alright I guess. Not really my type…” Allura shoved the whole orange wedge into her mouth.

 

“Yeah not really, no, and I don't think you're much his type either,” Veronica agreed, quietly. “He was wearing a Pride bracelet.”

 

Allura nearly choked.

 

“Oh, yeah, you're right. I think he did mention he was gay the last time he was over here.” Allura scanned the room discreetly for help, but Hunk was entertaining Lance's younger siblings and Lance was still in the kitchen. Fortunately, none of Lance's other family members appeared to be listening.

 

“Is it common for Lance's tutees to study with him in his room? Overnight?” Veronica leaned conspiratorially toward Allura.

 

“N-no… I mean, Keith works a lot. His schedule normally doesn't line up with Lance's until after band practice. So when Keith has a test, he comes over to cram.” Allura took a hasty sip of the coffee she'd set on the end table before she could dig her share of Lance's grave any deeper.

 

“Uh huh…” Veronica looked unconvinced, but Allura was spared further questioning by Lance's approach with two plates of scrambled eggs.

 

“¡Gracias hermanito!” Veronica chirped.

 

“De nada…” Lance noticed Allura's panicked expression. “Ronnie are you cross-examining my roommates again?” Lance smiled and raised an eyebrow in jest, but his tone of voice was cautious.

 

“¿Hay algo que ellos saben que yo no?”

 

“¿Acerca de?” He challenged.

 

“Tu guapo amigo esta mañana,” she whispered, winking.

 

“No se de que estas hablando,” Lance countered, willing his heart to beat normally.

 

“You know it wouldn't change anything, right?” Veronica asked, the mischief in her features suddenly shifting into confusion. Lance's eyes widened, but he didn't reply. “Siempre serás mi hermanito.” Lance looked to Allura, who smiled encouragingly.

 

“Hablaremos después,” he mumbled in defeat, turning to retrieve his own plate. That seemed to be all the answer Veronica needed to quell her curiosity for now. She returned her attention to her food and Allura to chat casually about anything but handsome Keith Kogane, Lance's sleep-in Spanish tutee. Lance put on his best happy-to-see-you face and caught up with his parents for a bit before it was time for them to head to the practice field. With specific instructions about where to find him when they joined up for Family Weekend activities, and a quick call to check on Marco's estimated time of arrival, the group piled in to two vehicles, Veronica opting to just ride with Allura, Hunk, and Lance in Allura's mini-van.

 

The first two minutes of the ride were filled with the most awkward of silences. Veronica decided to break it gently.

 

“So… how long have you been… uh..?” She gestured to Lance to prompt him to fill in the specific blank he'd yet to explicitly confirm or deny.

 

“I'm bisexual, Ronnie.” Hunk uncomfortably cleared his throat. Lance couldn't bring himself to look up at her as he spoke. “I've always known I was, really… Seems like you have too.” He risked a tiny side-glance over at her to find her smiling, that familiar warmth of comfort engulfing his heart as he realized she _didn't hate him_?

 

“I had my suspicions.” Veronica shoved Lance playfully, but there was a twinge of hurt in her voice. “¿Por qué no me lo dijiste?”

 

“Tenía miedo… I was afraid you'd hate me. I was afraid you'd reject me… that you'd think I'm disgusting or unnatural… or something…” He realized it sounded kind of stupid now, with Veronica sitting there with her kind eyes and her exasperated laugh.

 

“Hermanito, te amo. Nada puede cambiar eso.”

 

Tears filled Lance's vision as he leaned over to give his sister the most uncomfortable seat-belted hug in the history of hugs. Allura smiled at Hunk, who sniffled from the front passenger seat. When Lance released her, Veronica smirked over at him.

 

“So who is Keith _really_? You have a crush on him?”

 

Lance's face flushed as his mind filled with the possible answers to that question. _Keith Kogane? The cutest pizza delivery boy? The current game night Smash Bros champion? The small-town emo outcast? The divinely gifted artist? The nightmare-haunted orphan? The name Lance called out in the middle of the night, and the man he hoped to wake up next to every morning? Who really is Keith Kogane?_

 

“Keith's my… boyfriend…” Lance had braced himself for the quick hook he received to his shoulder.

 

“Shut. Up. No way! You're dating him?! Like _actually_ dating him?” She gawked at him. “And you didn't tell me?!”

 

“Ronnie I couldn't,” Lance laughed, rubbing his arm.

 

“Maldición, I suspected you'd slept with him, but not that you were actually dating! He definitely doesn't give off relationship-type vibes.”

 

Allura snorted from the driver's seat.

 

“¿Que se supone que significa eso?” Lance pouted. “What's so funny, Allura?”

 

“I think she just called Keith a Fuck Boy,” Allura chortled.

 

“Hey!”

 

“He kind of does give off that vibe, though,” Hunk chuckled. “Sorry buddy.”

 

“You've got him hooked, though,” Allura winked in the rearview mirror. “You should see them together, Veronica. It's adorable.”

 

“Alluuurraaa…” Lance whined, pulling the hood from his hoodie over his head in embarrassment. “Wait… what do you mean you figured we'd slept together?!”

 

“Lance, no soy estúpido.” She rolled her eyes. “His clothes were not nearly wrinkled enough to even mildly suggest that he'd slept in them, let alone that he'd slept in them on the _floor_ . Don't worry, though, the blanket and pillow on the floor _definitely_ fooled Mom. Nice touch.”

 

“All Keith,” Lance admitted.

 

“He's clever then… but not clever enough to remember that he left his phone charger plugged in _behind_ your nightstand, even though there's an outlet next to your desk.” She grinned openly at him as he looked on at her in disbelief.

 

“You were _snooping_?”

 

“Duh.”

 

“You were in my room for _six minutes_.”

 

“Little brother, I've been doing this for a long time. I can't believe you underestimated me.”

 

Lance's roommates snickered from the front seat.

 

“Also you've pinned a drawing of his to your wall above your bed. I take it there's a story behind the pizza-chu?”

 

Hunk completely lost it, tears now streaming down his face.

 

“Uugggghhh not even Lance has made _that_ pun,” Allura groaned.

 

“I can't even appreciate how bad that was,” Lance scoffed.

 

“You know you love me.”

 

“Barely.”

 

“So are you going to tell Mom and Dad?”

 

Lance went quiet for a moment.

 

“I… don't know yet.”

 

“It might seem reasonable to wait until it's serious, but personally I think the sooner the better. You know what an awful liar you are in the first place. Plus then they'll be mad you lied for so long,” Veronica reasoned aloud.

 

“It might already be? Kind of serious? Maybe?” Lance dodged Veronica's gaze, but continued on in explanation. “Ronnie, I think I'm in love with him.”

 

She stared blankly back at him for a few moments, but the smile returned swiftly to her face.

 

“Yeah. Yeah I think you are too.” She ruffled his hair under his hood. “McClains fall hard and fast. You are no different than Marco, or me, or Papá, or even Abuelita. I think they'll understand, Lance. I really do.”

 

_______________________________

 

Keith realized much too late that he didn't know exactly what he'd signed up for when he agreed to go with his Holt parents to the Family Day pre-game activities. He'd never so much as stepped foot into the football stadium in the two years he'd been a student, and still didn't plan to, since he had to cut out early for work. It occurred to him now, standing at the edge of the practice field with Sam and Colleen as band students in matching practice clothes gathered and set up in groups around the painted asphalt, that he might've been wrong about not ever wanting to experience this part of campus life. He found he couldn't help the smile on his face when he spotted Pidge and Matt setting up a podium along the sideline opposite where he and the Holts were standing. Allura stood in the middle of a group of students with piccolos to direct them through a warm up. He spied Hunk putting together his sousaphone, an instrument Keith didn't realize broke down into so many pieces. When he turned around to answer a question directed at him by Sam, he noticed Lance and Veronica standing nearby with a few people Keith recognized as members of Lance's fraternity pledge class. Lance laughed easily as one of them made a joke and Keith felt his heart melt in his chest.

 

In the way only the Holt matriarch could possibly manage to deduce, Colleen leaned toward Keith.

 

“Is that him? In the bomber jacket?”

 

Keith could only nod. He tried to tear his eyes away from Lance, since he didn't know where the rest of Lance's family was at the moment, but he couldn't help himself. Having to pretend that morning like he didn't know Lance from any one of his classmates had practically killed him. He hadn't had the chance to text Lance to make sure his charade had worked, but he took Veronica's pleasant demeanor to mean that it had. Except then suddenly she was looking right at him with a knowing expression and beckoning Lance to follow her across the way, checking her phone as they approached him. _Fuck_.

 

“Language…” Colleen warned.

 

He hadn't realized he'd said it aloud.

 

“His family doesn't know,” he explained hastily to his parents. “That's his sister, Veronica, and I'm worried she's onto him.”

 

“¡Hola Keith! ¿Son ellos tus padres? ¡Introducenos!”

 

“Uhhh… Hey Veronica!”

 

“Ronnie,” Lance grumbled.

 

“Si sigues mirando así, todo el mundo lo sabrá, idiota.” Veronica crossed her arms at Keith who only understood one word in that entire sentence, and it was one that provided either none or all of the context he needed to respond.

 

“Veronica, dejalo,” Lance demanded, exasperated.

 

“I'm just having a little fun, hermanito. I have to make up for lost time, apparently,” she winked.

 

“Uh, what?” Keith asked as Veronica checked her phone again.

 

“She knows. She pretty much figured it out herself,” Lance explained.

 

“Oh… and you're okay with it?” Keith turned to face Veronica fully.

 

“As long as you understand that if you hurt him, I will hunt you down myself to pluck your eyebrows out completely, hair by hair, then yep, I'm cool with it,” she smiled over her phone screen.

 

“Savage.”

 

“She's not kidding,” Lance laughed. “And it hurts.”

 

“Noted,” Keith nodded. “Uh, this is Colleen and Sam Holt.” The pair waved to Lance from behind Keith.

 

“It's nice to meet you, Lance. Katie has told us so much about you. We're really glad Keith has found someone as studious and involved as we're told you are.”

 

“Moooommmm…”

 

Suddenly, Veronica elbowed Lance harshly in the side.

 

“You have ten minutes. They've checked into the hotel and are on their way. Hacer que cuente.” Before turning to find an obvious place for their family to find her in the chaos of Game Day around them, Veronica made eye contact with Keith. “Don't ever lie to me again, _Spanish student_. I will find out. ¿Comprende?”

 

“Perfectly,” Keith laughed.

 

Veronica allowed a gentle smile to light up her face.

 

“It was nice to finally meet Lance's boyfriend. Hasta luego.” Veronica waved as she went.

 

“She's terrifying,” Sam muttered mostly to himself.

 

“You have no idea,” Lance chuckled. “She likes you though,” he added to Keith. “I can tell.”

 

“Good, because I can't,” Keith snorted.

 

“She, uh, thinks I should introduce you to my parents… for real.”

 

“Do you want to do that?” Keith shifted uneasily next to Lance. He wanted to hope that Veronica was right, but his skepticism was winning out.

 

“Not today,” Lance sighed in defeat. “But maybe before Miguel's birthday party, if you still want to come to that.”

 

Keith nodded. “I'd love to, babe.” The pet name had escaped him before he could stop it. They both turned a new shade of pink as the Holts shared a knowing look.

 

“Keith's birthday is the twenty-third. Will we be seeing you for dinner that Saturday?” Colleen asked, placing a hand on Keith's shoulder.

 

“Definitely,” Lance nodded.

 

The shrill twitter of three simultaneous whistles marked the beginning of rehearsal, making Keith jump. Lance failed to hide his amusement as he checked the area briefly for signs of his family before placing a chaste kiss on Keith's cheek.

 

“See you later!”

 

Lance waved as he ran across the practice field back to where he'd left his instrument.

 

________________________

 

Keith was certain this was legally a dry campus. That was definitely one of the rules they’d drilled into him as a freshman in orientation. He was vaguely aware of the frat parties that happened in the giant lettered houses along the streets in Greek Town, but had never had any desire to see what that was like. But now, standing among a line of people next to a tent where pop music blared from a massive speaker, he couldn’t see a single person, college-aged or otherwise, without a beer can in their hand. Campus Police patrolled lackadaisically through the throngs of partially intoxicated crowd on bikes, taking no note of the hundreds of people imbibing on University property.

 

The sun beamed in columns between puffy white clouds, casting rolling shadows over the crowd where they stood in anticipation of… something. Keith wasn't sure what he was waiting for exactly. The band had gone to eat lunch after rehearsal, but Pidge and Matt had instructed him and their parents to wait precisely in this spot. Slowly at first, students in full wool marching band uniforms started gathering in clusters around the area. He saw Allura leading the piccolo section through what sounded like bird chirping exercises to him. Pidge and Matt stood in different circles with their section mates, goofing off by the looks of it. Hunk had his sousaphone rested carefully on the ground in front of him. The drumline performed their usual slew of cadences, and the assembled audience clapped happily. There wasn't a trombone on sight, but the reason for that became fairly evident once the drummers relaxed after their set. In the distance, up a hill that led to the old indoor sporting arena, a building the University had recently replaced with a state-of-the-art basketball complex just across the street, a voice rang out above the cacophony, loud enough for Keith to realize it was Lance, but too far away to actually make out any words. Cheers followed, and then a sort of regal-sounding battle cry song, and everyone at the top of the hill shouting, “charge!” as they ran down the hill toward the rest of the band, many of the trombone players “riding” their instruments like horses. Keith laughed to himself as he spotted Lance among the group. He'd probably never ridden a horse in his life.

 

Lance dismounted as he reached the pavement, reached down, and unhooked the mouthpiece from his horn, and extended his arm to Hunk, who clinked the metal of his own mouthpiece to Lance's as if they were wine glasses. It would've been the weirdest thing Keith had ever seen, had he not been completely mesmerized by his boyfriend as he'd stepped, smiling, into the sunlight. Keith really needed to work on his staring problem.

 

The bright yellow-gold and white uniform across Lance's shoulders seemed to glow. His grin stopped time as everything around Keith faded away. Lance looked downright ethereal in his band uniform. Maybe Keith shouldn't admit that out loud to anyone ever, but the desire to be closer, the pull of the drawstring in his chest, was undeniable. He'd only seen Lance _that_ happy a handful of times. It was breathtaking; _Lance_ was breathtaking. And he was completely in his element as he sauntered around, pinging mouthpieces together and joking with his friends. The boy had _so many friends_ . Keith was almost jealous, were it not for the fluttering of his heart against his ribcage urging his feet to just _move, damnit._ But he planted himself between the Holts. Remembering himself, he glanced at his mom, whose knowing smirk mocked him. Thankfully, he could blame the flush of his cheeks on the sun.

It was a good thing he had to deliver pizza for a while after this. He really needed the chance to pull himself together before he was seated at a dinner table with Lance and his whole family.


End file.
